Black Eternity
by Shadowxwolf
Summary: Til Death Do Us Part'...Jack had never liked those lines, especially when she was about to say them to someone else. How episode 9 should have gone, and what happened after. AU definitely Jack/Gwen, a dash of Owen/Tosh
1. Chapter 1

My take on what Gwen's wedding day should have been like - if you ask me, that alien should have turned on wen after it kissed her, just to keep us fans happy. I don't know how many chapters there are going to be, but I know how it's gonna end, not that that's much help...So enjoy, and review at the end please, reviews are very important!

* * *

It was a quiet day in Cardiff, at least as far as Rift activity went. Shoppers and loiterers and young couples still thronged the main streets though, lapping up the glorious sunshine as though it was life. A perfect day for Gwen to get married. And she was going to do so, in just over three hours. 

Jack was counting time on a nearby clock as he sat in the shade, as if not wanting to share in the world around him, to shut himself off from everything; to forget everything. Each tick of that clock's hands mocked him._ You're too late, aren't you? _It said. _What're you gonna do about it?_ Ianto sat with him outside Costa, watching wafts of steam slowly rising from Jack's cup of hot chocolate, and feeling totally alone. The captain was also staring at it's creamy abyss, as if trying to find some deep and meaningful solution to life within.

The captain had become more morose and sullen as the past week had progressed, choosing not to involve himself with the rest of the team as they happily prepared for Gwen's wedding. He had started snapping at every little fault they made, and once even reduced Tosh to tears because a glitch in the rift had lost a minute portion of easily retrievable information that was part of a case. The whole team knew why, of course. It was written all over his face whenever Gwen talked about Rhys, or the wedding, or went home to check he was all right.

And that morning he had stubbornly refused to accept his invitation, repeating over and over that _someone _had to stay on duty and monitor rift activity, and as the boss it was his responsibility. As soon as Gwen left though, he donned his old RAF overcoat and stormed out like the headwind of a hurricane. Jack was cracking, even though he tried to hide it.

'Are you going to drink that Sir?' Ianto asked tentatively. 'It's getting cold.

Jack started and looked up from his reverie. His eyes were glazed and moist, though he quickly blinked that away. 'I don't like hot chocolate much,' he admitted. Ianto glanced away, the turmoil of emotions raging behind Jack's eyes too much for him.

It had been almost half an hour before when Ianto had found his boss wandering aimlessly through the streets of Cardiff, with the expression on his face that read he wanted to smash anything that got in his way. Gwen was getting married. And it was tearing him apart. Ianto carefully cajoled him to find something to eat and drink, just to calm Jack down, and had been surprised when his boss had ordered something other than coffee.

'I won't drink coffee if you didn't brew it, Yan,' he said jokingly, with that classic smile pasted a bit too broadly over his face. 'Besides, it's good comfort food.' That truly scared Ianto – Jack _never _needed comfort food.

The silence between them lasted far longer; Jack staring into infinity and Ianto there supporting him, comforting, as any loyal boyfriend would. People avoided them. A heavy cloud seemed to hang intangible above the two, a bubble of sucked-out happiness that was inscribed as shadows over Jack's face.

'Our Gwen's getting married!' Jack said finally, talking to the cup. His face was a crumbling façade of joy and bewilderment, as if he couldn't quite believe it. Inside he was collapsing. 'Who'd have thought it'd ever happen? A member of Torchwood going down the aisle! Ha!' he burst out into a fit of mad giggling and wouldn't stop until the clock tower chimed the quarter hour. He sobered immediately, reminded of all the time he had, all the time he thought he had for Gwen, and the reality that it had all been over in the blink of an eye. It was too late. Too late to tell her how he felt, how he had always felt. And now she was leaving with another man – still near him at work, but so far away it was like a whole other universe. He should be happy for her happiness; so why was it that all he could feel were gnarled and twisted emotions of guilt, regret, and anger? At that moment eternity seemed more cruel than usual.

'Sir?' Ianto began.

'Call me Jack today Ianto. Please,' Jack interrupted, the slight plead in his voice setting Ianto on edge. Jack never begged for anything either, even when things were desperate.

'Jack,' Ianto amended, 'why don't you go to the wedding?'

'Because, someone needs to look after the hub,' he replied sullenly.

Ianto was fast losing his patience. 'Jack, we're in the middle of Cardiff sitting outside Costa.' Jack decided to sulk and Ianto sighed with exasperation. 'Listen, Jack, go after her. Tell her how you feel.'

'And how do I feel?'

'You love her Jack, just like I loved Lisa – more than that.' This made Jack glance up. There was no need to ask how Ianto knew, the whole team had noticed with ease his violent mood swings and pining glances at his second-in-command.

'It's too late,' he muttered. 'And what about you?'

Ianto sighed. He had been thinking about this a lot recently, and it didn't take long for him to deliberate on an answer. 'I still love Lisa,' he admitted. 'If I was being honest, I would say I haven't really moved on from her.'

Jack grinned. 'Are you saying I'm a rebound?' he asked with a hint of amusement. Not much, but at least it was genuine.

'Go after her,' Ianto repeated.

'What if I make a total fool of myself?' Jack retorted suddenly. As it is, things are awkward between us, what happens if I pronounce undying love for her and she doesn't feel the same?'

'Jesus Christ Jack!' Ianto exploded. 'Is that all you've been worried about? Gwen loves you just as much – I'm amazed you weren't able to see it.'

'Then why hasn't she said anything?'

'Maybe because she's waiting for you, following your lead as she always does. And maybe a bit of guilt too,' he added, 'because of the whole Owen thing.'

Tortuous silence between them again; Ianto pleading with his eyes, and Jack slowly coming to a decision though his face gave nothing away. 'What time is it?' he asked. Ianto told him. Two hours to go. That did it. Jack remembered all those times he had tried to tell her, and his nerve had failed him. Him! Captain Jack Harkness! Who wasn't fazed by anything! This time it would be different. He couldn't let Gwen get married, not to Rhys, the last veil of the illusion of normality she had. She was Torchwood. She didn't do normal.

A steely glint of determination entered his expression, and he rose slowly and deliberately. There was no point in wasting time. He knew where the wedding was, knew every route to get to it, just in case. He didn't waste time trying to find a car. He ran.

'Tosh,' Ianto spoke into his comm., only the tiniest traces ofregret showing themselves. 'It worked.'

* * *

Gwen was standing in front of a wall high mirror, scrutinising every inch of the flowing white gown, the gossamer veil, her hair so elegantly curled and woven wit silver thread. She looked beautiful, angelic; but something was missing. Brides were meant to be happy, blushing. So why was she so pale and numb? Nerves? Pre-wedding jitters? No. No matter how hard she tried, there was one face she couldn't stamp out of her mind. Would he come? Would she follow him if he did? Or would she stay with the one she had planned on marrying? These thoughts chased round and round in her head until she wanted to just break down and be cuddled. But by who? Rhys, her fiancé, who had always been there for her even when she hadn't deserved him, and put up with all her crap and cancelled dates because of her job? Or Jack, the one person she felt she could ever pour her heart out to that would understand everything she said? Jack had been through so much, and he knew what hazards she faced everyday of her life. And still let her go out and do it because he knew it was what she loved. Some small, cynical part of her, growing larger by the minute, doubted Rhys would do the same. 

But he wouldn't come. There had been too many chances for him to do that already. First when he had come back and found out she was engaged, when Rhys found out about Torchwood and she had refused to retcon him. Gwen would never be able to erase the hurt she had caused Jack with those words – regret, longing, anger, frustration, grief, torment, she had seen all of them battling behind his eyes. And love. She had seen love for her there too, though that had been the one he had tried to hide the most. But he wouldn't come. And even if he did, she told herself firmly, even if he did she would still marry Rhys, the one constant in her life, who had not gone without trace or word after some Doctor, leaving her alone with the rest of the team to face everything and anything that came out of the rift. Rhys would never do that to her.

But she had. Owen. That was who she thought about as well. Not in the same way as Jack, who kept forcing his grinning face into her thoughts, but in the guilt that still crawled over her skin and twisted her gut at the memories of his fingers on her skin, their sweat mingling. . . and her enjoyment of the whole affair. That was what got to her most.

Was this why she was marrying Rhys? Guilt? A great time to think about it, on your wedding day, Gwen, she chided herself. Yet she couldn't shake the uncertain feeling that that was exactly it. To prove to herself and the knowing world that she could be just as loyal as the man who had asked her to marry him. To Rhys. But, Jack. . .

No, she told herself firmly. Jack never said anything to you. He could have, but he didn't.

Yes, another voice drawled silkily, but you know he does love you. For all of you. Rhys definitely doesn't look at you the way he does. And that image of Jack's face when he first heard of the engagement, at her voice, from some distant plane saying 'no-one else will have me', and his thoughts crying out through his stoic face – 'didn't you know I would?'

The door clicked open behind her, and her father, all proud smiles, came gliding in.

'You look beautiful, Duckling,' he crooned. 'There's no way Rhys will be able to resist.'

'I hope so, dad,' she replied, finding some comfort in his strong hug.

'Are you ready?'

'Not yet, dad, I just need to finish my makeup.' Her dad smiled and generously left the room. She stared at the mirror again. Her eyes were glassier than usual, but there was already about five layers of mascara on already, so another wouldn't make much difference. What would _he _say, if he were here? She knew the real reason why she had wanted to wait. Give him more time, a bigger chance to take her away and prove what he felt for her.

No good. He won't come, the normal-loving side of her started, Rhys is better for you anyway. That voice had been getting fainter and fainter ever since she started Torchwood. She sighed. There was no going back now.

'I'm ready dad,' she called softly.

* * *

Jack had left the city centre behind him now, running so quickly past the older mining houses that everything was a blur. A woman pushing a pram yelled when he nearly collided with her, but he didn't slow, or even notice she was there. He just pushed his legs to pump harder, and look of grim determination and exertion marring his features. Please, don't let him be late. Please. 

He was nearly there. There was the spire of the church, the same one she had been christened in, and he forced his legs harder. There was music erupting from the holy building like a mockery of his efforts, the frantic pulsing of his heart drowning out all unimportant sounds. He crossed a road, not even looking for traffic, and not pausing when an angered cab driver cursed at him.

There was only the church. Gwen. He had to get there in time.

Mr. Cooper led his daughter proudly down the aisle, throwing sidelong glances at her through the veil. She looked worried. Perfectly all right, he assured himself, but a little naggling fear informed him she was having second thoughts.

'Good luck,' he whispered to her as he lifted the veil over her beautiful face. What man wouldn't want to marry Gwen now? She smiled tentatively in return. It was almost sad, regretful. He shrugged off the feeling and sat down next to his wife.

The music stopped, though Gwen's heartbeat was throbbing too hard for her to notice. Would he come?

Rhys smiled at her, real warmth radiated from his features. He was completely sure about this – but it felt yet another lie to beam back at him like nothing was wrong. Jack. . .No. She was marrying Rhys. That was the end of it.

But what if he comes?

'Dearly beloved,' the priest began.

* * *

The organ had stopped. Why had the organ stopped? It was too late. He was still too far away. But Jack had sprinted hell for leather for three miles and wasn't about to give up. He growled in determination even as his body cried exhaustion. He wouldn't back down this time, not even if he had to wrestle her away from Rhys to say what needed to be said. Gwen! 

Jack. . .

'We gather here today as witness to the union of Rhys and Gwen, who have chosen to sanctify their relationship in the bonds of holy matrimony, which is binding in law.' The priest paused for dramatic effect. There was some shuffling, and he continued. This was always the interesting bit. 'I am required to ask of the congregation here gathered: if there is any reason why these two here may not be joined in the bonds of marriage –' Tosh glanced nervously at Owen, who was throwing looks at the door. The same thing was going through both their minds. Where was he?

Gwen's heart was racing, more hum than thump, and it threatened to burst out of her chest like some alien parasite. Would he come? Would he come at the last minute like the hero of some story to carry her off? No. He wouldn't – he had already missed that chance a hundred times. He would; he loved her too much to let her be taken by someone else. Would he come? '- speak now, or fore-'

The doors crashed open. A man thundered in as all heads turned in astonishment. Gwen's eyes lit up with hope, bewilderment, disbelief. He was here. He had come.

'Jack. . .' she whispered.

'Hold everything!' Jack cried in a ringing tone, filling the hushed church. 'This wedding needs to stop now!' Gasps echoed round the congregation in waves. Gwen dared to hope. Rhys looked murderous.

'What the hell are you doing here Jack? Eh?' he demanded. 'You've wrecked things enough between me and Gwen – you are not spoiling our wedding!'

'Sorry, Rhys, but I'm afraid I am,' Jack retorted through grasping, sobbing breath. Three miles at full pelt was killing. 'Gwen, you look beautiful by the way.' And she did. Standing straight and tall in a white silk gown decorated with lace, all her curves were in the right places and the pale colour made her skin glow like sun through fog. Her black hair was done up in ringlets that fell softly down into the nape of her neck and over her shoulders. And those eyes. The green eyes so emotive and innocent and yet so disillusioned with the world, those eyes that Jack had first fallen for. What was that emotion dancing across her beautiful features now?

'Gwen. I need to talk to you. Now.' Seeing the staring faces crowding round, trying to listen in on Jack's strong but gentle voice, he added 'In private.'

'Oh no you don't Jack,' Rhys all but shouted. 'Whatever it is can wait till after the wedding.'

'No, Rhys, it can't,' Jack replied heatedly. Never before had he wanted to smash Rhys' face in like he did now. One solid punch in the right place could knock him out or even kill him. Oh well, one could dream. He could never hurt Rhys. Not in front of Gwen anyway.

'She's staying here!' Rhys hollered.

Jack assumed his superior-looking stance; arms crossed firmly across his chest, feet planted wide, staring Rhys down as if to say 'you can't win, don't even bother trying'.

'I think we should ask Gwen what she wants,' he said coolly.

Gwen was shocked. She had expected to have been fought over until Rhys was blue in the face and Jack had assumed that black-hole aura he got whenever he was really mad. Someone calling for her opinion was completely out of the blue, and it only made her appreciate Jack more. He listened to her, she realised, in ways that went far beyond just hearing what she said. Every little mood change in her he detected, tuned in 24/7 to what she thought and felt. Rhys wasn't. He had to always ask her what was wrong; Jack always just somehow . . . _knew._

There was stunned silence for a few seconds. Rhys looked from Gwen to Jack and back again with a hopeless, knowing expression. She would go with him; she always did.

'Gwen, please,' he started.

'I'm sorry Rhys,' she murmured. Jack flashed him a brief triumphant smirk before turning and leading Gwen away, his hand placed on the small of her back to guide her.


	2. Chapter 2

Hello again, this thing's been like a loose tooth, bugging me all day - so I wrote this next chapter for all you lovely people who reviewed and added me to alerts and so on...here's the deal, if you give me nice reviews and say on my pole that Jack/Gwen is better than Jack/Ianto, you all get cookies and shiny new chapters - hope you enjoy!

PS, I will reply to all the reviews I can. toodlepip --why didI say that, oh well...

* * *

Jack let Gwen lead. She knew where she was going, and he was content to follow her, as she had always followed him. He could feel his heart pumping adrenalin round his body, and he fought to keep it under control. Already his nerve of steel was threatening to crumble away; already he was trying to make up some pathetic excuse about the rift. Not this time, though. That had happened far too many times already – the excuses, the diversions, all pushing her further away from him, into the arms of someone he had tried to convince himself was better for her, but who he knew was not.

Rhys wasn't good enough for her. He never had been. He was normal, she was Torchwood – and Jack knew about the times he had gone behind Gwen's back because he hadn't believed her about her job. Jack always knew when they had rowed, and the sight of her coming in through the cog door trying to hide it had always made him want to lash out at something – preferably the one who had hurt Gwen.

Now Gwen stood in the middle of the bridal suite, listening to Jack enter and lock the door behind him. Part of her wondered what this was about. Part of her knew and was already celebrating. She couldn't face him yet, though – his blue eyes so much older than his face, so cold and yet so full of betraying emotion – she knew she would falter if he said it. No more masquerading.

He watched her for a moment, knowing she was calming herself down. Even now, after she had shunned him and reproached him so many times, he dared to hope. Would she say the words he needed to hear? Or would she scream and shout and run to Rhys, and demand to resign? That was Jack's greatest fear. Yes, he was afraid, more terrified than he had been in a lifetime. If he didn't say it now, the sight of her standing so pristine and perfect in that wedding dress would make him stumble.

'Gwen.' Jack spoke her name softly, like it was something precious. She turned. She would always react to him. Always. She expected him to be close, for his eyes to be gazing deep into hers, but he wasn't. He was standing off, aloof as he always was, standing with hands clasped behind his back like a soldier standing at ease. He wasn't though. She could tell. A nervous aura clung to him and permeated the air, and she felt her heartbeat quicken further at the sight of his slightly frowning face. He was like a dark angel, _her _dark angel, she realised, who would protect her even if it cost him the world.

'Jack,' she whispered back. Her face was filled with longing. Then consternation as the silence stretched between them. Why was it so goddamned hard to form words? Three of the simplest words on the planet to say! But ones that carried so much meaning behind them; that was why. 'Jack, what's going on?' Gwen asked sharply. 'Why is it you saw fit to interrupt my wedding?'

This was the time. He would tell Gwen everything. First there was something that needed to be done. He took the room in two huge, fluid strides and was standing no more than three inches from her.

'Gwen,' he murmured. 'This is why I was sitting outside a bar in the city watching the clock, why I ran three miles, probably dying a hundred times over, why I burst through those doors like my life depended on it – because it does Gwen. My life depends on you. I come back for you. The darkness has nothing on this.'

There were close now, closer than ever before. Their heat mingled with their breath and they burned each others' eyes – hers searching, hoping, his pleading, afraid. Jack took his chance and did what he had wanted ever since that first night - and every night since – he had first laid eyes on her. He kissed her lips.

It lasted for as long as he dared. She wasn't responding, and it took all of Jack's control not to deepen it and make it something more than it was, what he wanted it to be. His hands stayed gently clasping the cusp of her pale chin, feeling her warmth, her quick pulse. It sent nerves jolting all along his body.

Then there was that gap between them again. The distance maintained at all times, never breached, because she was engaged, and he wanted something better for her.

'I love you Gwen,' he whispered to her moist, red mouth.

Jack had kissed her. Actually breached her personal space and pressed his lips to hers. Not forcing, not hard; giving her the respect to choose if she wanted it. She did. More than anything she did. Not even with Owen had Gwen felt this level of passion, and certainly never with Rhys. Because she loved Jack. She always had. When he had left, she had moped and stared into space and been unresponsive. Saying yes to Rhys had lifted that somewhat, given her a reason to move on, but since her boss had returned, all she had wanted to do with the ring was toss it out of the window.

She did love Rhys, she did. But it was nothing compared to the feeling Jack woke in her, like comparing a drop in an ocean to the ocean itself. And so, when Jack pulled away, grinning, she leaned up and kissed him right back.

They pulled away again. Jack's eyes were unguarded now, brimming with relief and absolute happiness. In that moment, there was no Torchwood, no bloodthirsty aliens or angry fiancés, just them together in each others' arms. He gently smoothed away her tears with his thumbs.

'Now, that's typical Welsh,' he smiled. 'I show you something fantastic and you find fault.' They both smiled at the memory of their first proper conversation. 'Why are you crying?'

Gwen couldn't answer. Instead she pressed herself against his chest like it was the most natural thing in the world to her. At that moment, it was; nothing could interfere.

'Tell me you love me Jack,' she said into his grey overcoat. It was soft and warm against her cheek.

'I love you, Gwen Cooper,' Jack complied, taking great pleasure in the words. He held her to him and rocked her lightly, smoothing down her hair with one hand. She was sobbing quietly into his shirt, and tears were falling on his cheeks too. It was like a massive weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

Gwen started chuckling into his shirt.

'What is it?' he asked, keen to share the joke. She sighed almost wistfully, letting him cradle her.

'Nothing, it's nothing,' she said.

'No, tell me,' he insisted.

'It's just, when Rhys proposed, and he had that twinge in his back, I couldn't help but compare him to you,' she admitted. Jack looked stunned for a moment. He had that cute look on his face that he used when trying to think of something witty to say, but hadn't come up with anything yet.

'In what way?' he asked playfully, looking straight through her again.

'You would look really funny with a twinge in your back,' she teased. He laughed and hugged her closer again. With Jack she felt completely safe; he could and would destroy anything that tried to harm her. Gwen sighed in contentment and let herself drift away in his embrace.

Suddenly Gwen realised just what she was doing. She was in the arms of another man on her wedding day. Rhys. Rhys would be devastated. What was she doing? She pulled away from Jack like he was an infectious disease, disgusted at herself. She had promised, _promised, _to be faithful to her fiancé, the man who had stood by her through everything Torchwood could throw at them, who had waited each night for her to come home and was still waiting for her now. She couldn't believe her own selfishness, she had promised to put that behind her. She glanced up at Jack. The old pain was there in his eyes, his face hadn't so much as twitched but now exuded a guarded and unreachable air. In that one second she had betrayed him again; and it tore her apart.

He stood back and let her have her own space. He knew what she was thinking without having to question, to dig claws into an already gaping hole. It went against all his instincts, undid all he had just said, but he said it anyway.

'I won't stop you Gwen. Not if it's what you really want.'

The tenderness, the raw hurt in his voice, shocked Gwen out of her trail of self destruction. Why wouldn't he fight for her? Fight with tooth and claw and all the alien weapons in the Torchwood vaults, like she knew he so desperately wanted to. But he hadn't finished. He approached her again, this time with such unmasked intensity that she almost flinched.

'But first, Gwen, I need to ask you something – why are you marrying Rhys? Why did you say yes to him?' his eyes were searching her soul, and Gwen knew she couldn't lie anymore. Not even to herself. 'You said to me once that no-one else would have you. How could you not tell that I would? Why did you marry him?' he needed to know. And she needed to stop kidding herself.

'You left us Jack,' she half-shouted. 'What was I meant to do? Sit and wait around for you to come back? What if you didn't? Did you ever think of that? Rhys has always been there for me, through thick and thin, good times and bad, even when I haven't deserved it – and he loves me, Jack. He loves me.' 

'Guilt is no reason to marry someone Gwen, no matter how hard you try to convince yourself otherwise,' Jack growled, angry now, betrayal bubbling to the surface from some hidden well deep within his heart. No more passive resistance. He was fighting for her now. 

He had seen right through her guise, cut deeper into something she had only realised in her peripheral subconscious. Gwen was guilty, and it had influenced her decision. She shook her head, not wanting to believe it.

'N-no,' she stammered. 'That can't be it. I love him.'

'He's not the only one,' Jack replied more softly. 'Gwen, I love you so much – I've died so many times, and every time, what brings me back from the dark is your face lighting the way for me. And I'm sorry, but I won't let you walk up that aisle and make the biggest mistake of your life. He's too normal for you , Gwen, and I refuse to stand by and watch from the sidelines anymore. I won't.' He trailed off, looking hopelessly deflated, and so unlike Jack that Gwen couldn't help but go to him, put her arms around his shoulders and try and bring him back from wherever his spirit had gone. 'I'm gonna live forever, and eternity has never seemed blacker than it does now.' Jack was scared, and Gwen's knowledge of it made her world unsteady. Jack wasn't scared of anything.

'I love him,' she whispered, 'but not like I love you, Jack.' 

It was true. When she closed her eyes, it was his face she saw beaming in her mind. When she kissed Rhys she longed to be kissing Jack instead. And when Rhys hugged her, she imagined the strong arms of Captain Jack Harkness keeping her safe. And she hadn't even realised it until now. She felt comfortable, normal with Rhys, but she _needed _Jack. Because he was right, she was Torchwood. She was far from normal.


	3. Chapter 3

NayClem updated, and since I wrote this last night, and couldn't be bothered to let it sit, here it is for you guys!

Total confusion had been left behind in the wake of Gwen and Jack. Rhys looked like a laughing stock in front of the entire congregation. He looked from his mother who was arguing with Gwen's, to the bridesmaids who were speculating on whether Gwen would come back. Rhys believed she would. She always came back to him, didn't she?

But did she though? And wasn't it always only when it suited her, when Torchwood had had a lull in aliens supernatural disasters? The look on Gwen's face at the sight of her boss was quickly crumbling his resolve that it was an entirely innocent thing he wanted to talk to her about. She always had that look in her eye when she saw him, and sometimes in his too, so fleeting he often thought it a trick of the light. But it was there. It always had been.

Rhys remembered the time Jack had come loping into view while they were out on a date, and Gwen had followed him without a second's thought. She had done it again. And this time Rhys went after her.

Tosh and Owen, busy relating the situation to Ianto, noticed and followed. Jack needed some private time with Gwen to unload his feelings. If he was interrupted, he would only be scared away again, and working with them both would stay charged and uneasy. This was for everyone's benefit – well, everyone at Torchwood.

* * *

Jack and Gwen heard her fiancé's clomping footsteps long before he reached the door. She pulled away from him automatically, trying to ignore the stung expression on his face. She couldn't help it. Despite the comfort she had found in Jack, overwhelming guilt for Rhys' situation was threatening to crash over her. Rhys loved her. He needed her. And she had resolved to stand by him and be as loyal as he had since she joined Torchwood. It didn't matter if she had feelings for Jack, she would learn to shut them out; and Jack would get over it too. He was immortal. He couldn't stay with her and grow old with her.

She told him all this while he stood there, stiff and unresponsive again, gazing at her with a neutral and cold expression.

'So you're still going to choose Rhys?' he clarified. She nodded mutely, scared that if she opened her mouth she would deny it so violently the whole world would be able to hear.

'I need someone who can be there for me through thick and thin, someone stable who can grow old with me.' She tried desperately to explain herself. 'We both know you can't give me that.' He raised his chin, saying nothing. It looked like a fierce internal battle raged inside him. His jaw muscles clenched and unclenched. 'And he loves me,' she continued. 'He's loved me through everything, Jack, I can't leave him now.'

Jack's shoulders slumped ever so slightly, defeat traceable in every feature. That alone almost brought Gwen to tears. Jack never gave up on everything.

'It's too late,' she whispered, burying her head in her hands. He came close again, his breath sweet on her face, gently prying away her fingers so he could gaze into her eyes.

'It's never too late, Gwen,' he said. 'You can still walk away.'

She shook her head. 'I can't.'

Jack took a deep breath, as if what he would say next would break him if he wasn't fully prepared for it. She had made up her mind, and there was never any changing it. 'Then I wish you and your husband every happiness, Gwen Cooper,' he whispered. He caught her chin with his hand, and brought her lips to his for one last kiss. Their mouths parted in the same instant and his tongue slid into her mouth. It was deep and full of life and barely controlled desire, desire they both possessed. Something hard fell into Gwen's mouth and she swallowed reflexively as Jack pulled away. The world instantly wobbled, everything apart from his face, his eyes full of regret and a steely resolve.

'What did you do?' she demanded.

'I'm sorry Gwen,' he replied. 'But you don't need those sorts of memories on your wedding day.' He stood up, watching her. The realisation suddenly hit.

'Wait a minute. Was that_ retcon_!? Did you just slip me a retcon pill?' He said nothing, but that was all the confirmation she needed. She suddenly wanted to lash out, to sock him one in the jaw. Some part of her knew he had acted for the best, that he had done what was necessary to ensure her happiness, but her other half rebelled against it. She couldn't believe he had gone behind her back like this. She stood, or tried to stand. She fell forward and Jack caught her. He would always catch her when she fell, and ask for nothing back, and now, thanks to him, she wouldn't be able to remember why. Tears flushed down her face at the anger and injustice of it all.

She hit him, hard as she could, before the drug took effect. Her fists pounded against his chest and he just stood there taking it, crying with her as the retcon did its work. He laid her on the bed a gently as a feather. She truly was beautiful. Even if Gwen didn't remember this scene, he certainly would, and carry it with him forever. Gwen did love him. That was all that mattered, even if they couldn't be together.

'You bastard,' she gasped faintly at him. He smiled.

'I won't ever stop fighting for you, Gwen Cooper,' he promised.

Rhys burst into the room, panting like a winded rhinoceros. Jack leaped away from the unconscious Gwen like he had been electrocuted, and stood there coldly against the onslaught from the fiancé.

'What have you done to her, eh?' he roared, charging Jack, who caught him easily round the shoulders. This guy had a definite rage problem, Jack thought.

'She's fine, Rhys, don't worry,' he tried to calm him down, but Rhys was having none of it.

'You've done something to her, haven't you Harkness? Well, what is it? Why did you think it necessary to interrupt my wedding day, eh? Me and Gwen could've been married by now if you hadn't come haring up the aisle! The whole place is in an uproar!'

'Rhys!' Jack commanded. 'Get a hold of yourself! Gwen is fine, she just fainted, that's all.' Jack shoved Gwen's fiancé away from him like he was a bad smell. Envy contorted his features ever so slightly when Gwen groaned as she came to.

'What happened?' she asked groggily.

'You just fainted,' Jack replied stiffly, employing all of his self restraint not to go to her and check her over and make sure she was all right. That was Rhys' job now.

'Are you all right?' Rhys asked impatiently, attempting to make sure she was fine. He had no idea what he was doing.

'I'm – I'm fine,' she replied. Her arms wrapped suddenly around his neck, and Jack suddenly found he couldn't watch the happy couple anymore. He stared resolutely ahead as they crooned to each other and kissed in relief that the other was safe.

'Shouldn't we be getting back to the wedding?' Rhys asked.

'Why aren't we in the church?' Gwen replied, confused.

'Jack said he needed to talk to you about something.'

'Oh, what was it?'

'Doesn't matter,' Jack replied hurriedly, giving her one of his trademark grins. 'All that matters at the minute is getting you back there so you can say your vows and go on your honeymoon.' He helped her up.

Jack had never imagined the courage it would take to watch her be given away to another man. He watched because that was what was expected of him, though at that moment he would rather have been facing an entire dalek army on his own again. It killed him to watch Rhys slip that ring onto her finger with a big cheesy grin plastered over his face. He could feel the nervous glances Tosh and Owen constantly threw at him, but ignored them. They didn't need to know how much he was aching inside.

Jack didn't go to the reception, choosing instead to return to the hub, where it was quiet and where there was room to think. Besides, somebody had to feed Myfanwy. He just couldn't face Gwen again. The soppy music, the lovey-dovey looks the happy couple would be passing each other, even the pink and silver balloons, were more than he could stand. So he had run away again, back to familiar territory and aliens that were friendly or unfriendly, not cruel. Weevils didn't stab you with a heart shaped blade and twist it so you died slowly and painfully. No, they went straight for the throat and made it quick.

Jack sighed. He needed to take his mind off things. There was that report lying on his desk that he needed to read; it wouldn't distract him for long, but it was a start. He set to it with grim relish, cherishing the brief moments he could muster when his mind could successfully block out the painful beauty of Gwen Cooper's face.

Aargh! He did a Gwen! I hate it when fics write themselves, you never know what's going to happen next. Personally I didn't like this chapter as much as the others, since now we're back to square one again. I'd really like some reviews, though...please?


	4. Chapter 4

You all thought I was cruel for ripping them apart like that, just when they got together, and so I was, but it wouldn't be much of a story without a bit of conflict would it? I know, I know, no excuse. But I got so many infuriated and entertaining reviews I thought I would reward yoall with this chapter for being so nice to me and not killing me...although I think some of you were pretty close...

And just for a laugh I threw in a bit of Tosh/Owen for y'all! Hope you enjoy!

The little group looked furtively about every now and then. They were off the clock, and in a very inconspicuous pub, but at any moment the subject of their conversation could appear and fire them all on the spot. It was a very touchy topic, but one that needed discussing, now more than ever.

'This is just going beyond a joke now,' Owen complained loudly. There were murmurs of agreement from around the table.

There had always been something between Gwen and Jack; the whole team had noticed it. Little glances that passed between them, smiles and casual flirting that everyone knew but wouldn't admit went deeper than that. Hell, Susie had seen it in the first five minutes of coming back from the dead, and had used Jack's feelings to bribe sympathy and protection for herself. They all knew Jack would stop at nothing to protect Gwen Cooper.

And that sense had only become stronger when their boss had reappeared. Only now, as well as that silent devotion there was an underlying current of desperation, of chances only just able to be brushed with the fingers. Gwen, wracked by guilt and finally accepting that Jack wasn't going to return, had accepted the proposal offered by Rhys in hope of some happiness. None of them believed she was as in love with him as she pretended. Owen was testament to that. Tosh had pulled the footage from the CCTV showing the brief exchange between Jack and Gwen when he had found out about the engagement, and it still brought tears to her eyes. The torn expression on her boss's face had been such a shock, so pained, made it torturingly clear to the rest of the team.

It wasn't just that either. On the run up to Gwen's wedding, a dark oppression had hung over the hub. Jack had been prone to snapping at people and Gwen would sometimes just rise and storm out, as though she couldn't stand the atmosphere anymore. It had engulfed them all.

Now, Gwen was enjoying her honeymoon and Jack was moping around, looking for fights and glaring an awful lot at the gun in its holster on his desk. And the team had had enough of it.

'He's finding it harder to come back,' Ianto commented. 'He got shot last week; it took him nearly three hours to revive.'

'Don't you ever get tired of that stopwatch, Ianto?' Owen said dryly, taking a swig of beer.

'Nope.'

'What I don't get is what happened at the wedding,' Owen continued. 'I mean, Jack came in, all guns blazing, with that determined look he sometimes gets, you know? Like –'

'Like nothing in the universe can stand in the way of what he wants to protect,' Tosh put in helpfully.

'Exactly, Tosh,' smiled Owen, raising his bottle to her. She blushed and sipped her cocktail. 'And then he took Gwen away, and then they came back, what? Half an hour later? And it was like he hadn't said anything. Just plonks himself next to us, and won't take his eyes off her.' He shook his head in incredulity.

'Well, isn't it obvious? He must have retconned her,' Ianto said.

'Why though?' Tosh asked.

'Tosh, this is Jack, who knows why he does anything?' the medic was getting thoroughly tired of the whole charade. And that beer would come back to haunt him in an hour or so. Damn.

'Maybe he couldn't do it? Like in that video you showed us, Tosh,' Ianto suggested.

'Nah, he was going to do it then, but that engagement ring just threw him completely off track. Gen didn't help much either.'

'Or maybe,' Tosh had had a sudden thought, 'what if he did tell her, and then she turned round and said she still wanted to marry Rhys? That would explain the look he had when they came back – and why he didn't go to the reception.'

'What I don't get is why she would choose Rhys over Jack, when her feelings are clearly stronger for Jack, even if he poured his guts out to her.' Owen often mused on this point, and it often led to a good bitch about Rhys – how unhandsome, loud, obnoxious, un-understanding, overprotective, stupid, clumsy, naive, and in general how unsuitable he was for their charismatic Gwen Cooper.

Tosh sighed. Men were so ignorant sometimes.

'Don't you get it Owen? Gwen still feels guilty about her affair with you, and everything she's put him through since she joined Torchwood. Plus it means she has some hold on her old life,' she added thoughtfully.

'Thing about Gwen is, she never knows a lost cause when she sees one. I don't see why she doesn't give it up and just go with Jack already. I mean, you can tell they're madly in love with each other.' Ianto muttered something about 'not the only ones', and Tosh's cheeks flushed slightly redder. 'What was that Ianto?' Owen asked pleasantly.

'Nothing.'

The medic looked slightly suspicious so Ianto decided it best to change the subject. 'The question is, what do we do now?' he said.

'We could lock them in a closet together,' Owen suggested slowly, as though taking great pleasure in the image.

'No way, Jack'd kill us.' So they scrapped that idea.

Tosh had the next idea. 'If Jack retconned her then all we need to do is find a trigger. She'll remember what he said to her and if she had time to think about it, she might realise her mistake. Either way I don't see their relationship lasting very long.'

'We don't know what he said to her though,' Ianto supplied apologetically.

Owen eyed the teaboy critically. At first, when he and Tosh had first got together on this little project, they had been dubious as to whether to invite Ianto along. After all, he and Jack were having an affair. But Ianto, who knew everything that ever went on in the hub, soon caught on and joined in enthusiastically.

Ianto had never really gotten over Lisa, his cyber-girlfriend, and though sex with Jack might ease the pain somewhat, it couldn't bring back what he had lost – and he would never forgive himself if he stood in the way of what Jack was bound to lose if he didn't admit his feelings for Gwen. So he had joined, intent on making total happiness a reality for two of his best friends (and maybe the other two as well, if the chance came along).

Mild suggestions and wild ideas bounced back and forth across the table well into the night, none really having any hope of working.

Far away, in a romantic resort in some tropical country or other, someone else was having trouble sleeping.

Gwen lay motionless in bed, half-listening to Rhys' gentle snores. She had finally done it, she thought to herself, she had finally tied the knot. So why did she feel so low, so empty? Jack. The one person she had scolded herself for thinking about was the one person she could never clear from her mind. He was there, first thing in the morning when she woke, beaming down at her, and was also present last thing before she fell asleep. She even dreamed about him; in them he said he loved her. Even when Rhys held her, kissed her, she imagined it was _him, _so warm and strong, coming to protect her in his own way. Jack let her be herself; Rhys smothered who she was, or so her subconscious told her.

Had she made the biggest mistake of her life, then? In marrying Rhys in a last ditch attempt to hold onto her former life had she in fact sold her soul? The biggest mistake of her life. The words sounded familiar, though they hadn't sprung from her lips before. Jack.

Every so often, flashes would half form in Gwen's mind of a scene with two blurry figures. One was her, wearing white, the other was Jack in his trademark greatcoat. She couldn't remember this scene, it had never happened, and was more like the dream of a dream than something real. Yet some gut instinct told her this was a suppressed memory trying to get through – that needed to get through. Jack. What had happened between them in that room? Jack hadn't gone to the reception, she remembered that much. She must have said something in that room that had offended him, hurt him terribly. An image of his face, unguarded, completely serene and happy broke through the haze. Jack had never looked like that; there had always been some care in his face, some trivial worry that had creased his forehead with a frown. But not in that image. If only she could remember!

Rain pattered lightly against the window of the honeymoon suite. One of the problems of spending time in a tropical country, Jack had said. Oh, and watch out for mosquitoes, they pack a real punch in that part of the world. Pack lots of bug spray.

Gwen smiled at the memory, at the way his smile made the corners of his eyes crinkle. But the mirth hadn't reached his eyes that time, or any other time when the subject of the wedding had been brought up. There was only pain and regret. It twisted Gwen's heart now just to think about it.

He had organised the honeymoon, adamant that she should have the best, and had made all the arrangements and paid for it out of the Torchwood budget. And when she had walked out of his office, she had caught sight of him; no longer the laughing joking man he had been a second before – he stared off into some dark abyss only he could see, like a condemned man on his way to the gallows. Only Jack's pain would endure forever.

It rocked her whole frame with guilt and a silent tear trickled down her cheek. Rhys was oblivious to it all. He never said a decent word about her boss, and it took all of Gwen's resolve and steel not to burst out with all the good he had done. How he had saved her from all manner of aliens, how he had died for her countless times, confided in her, let her confide in him when she had no other shoulder to cry on. He had protected her but let her stand on her own two feet, had trusted her.

And she had betrayed him time and again, though, and she knew it. When he had stood impassively in front of her and asked if she could go back to her life before Torchwood – she wouldn't have known any different – but he would. The sheer passion and anguish lavished on those words had cut her down to the marrow. His eyes were wet, she remembered, full of torture and self-loathing. But no hate for her. She could do no wrong. But she had. She had gone to find comfort in Rhys' arms – like putting a plaster over a shrapnel wound, and what was more, she had done it time and time again when she couldn't face Jack any more, when her own mistakes backfired on her.

How would she pay for the biggest? Was it too late to go back and start over? Probably. Gwen couldn't see how even Jack could forgive her after what she had done. She knew for a fact Rhys wouldn't. But then, she thought, maybe that was the biggest difference between the two: Jack had already forgiven her for every little wrong she had done, and he had understood her reasons. Rhys wasn't so accommodating, so self-sacrificing. Jack would die time and again for the world, and let the world fall to ruin to save her.

She was sitting at the window now, with all these thoughts whirring in her head, seeming strangely familiar. It was that memory-that-wasn't-a-memory again, and it lay snaking just beneath the surface of her mind, teasing her, tormenting her. All she could think about was Jack. Rhys was still snoring.

Why was it that now she saw her boss she pictured him standing bold against the sky, jaw set and a face like thunder, whilst her husband was imagined on the day he had proposed, the twinge in his back meaning he was as helpless as a baby?

There was one thing she realised; she had known it all along, really. I'm in love with you, Jack Harkness, she thought.


	5. Chapter 5

People are liking this? Despite me being cruel and evil by not having Gwen and Jack together? Wow. So, here for your delictation and delight, a chapter with some plot, and Gwen almost finally remembering!! Just what she needs.

For those of you who haven't seen episode 13 yet - SHAME ON YOU - Sorry for the spoiler. RIP Tosh and Owen. We will miss you. Was anyone else crying at the end?

PS. this is quite a long chapter, but I hope you don't mind too much

There was a huge stack of papers on his desk, papers that he should really be filing. But, Jack reasoned with himself, there was still plenty of time to do that, and besides, the longer he spent in here, the longer he could put off going out _there_.

Gwen had returned barely a week before, and Jack had found that he couldn't face her. He couldn't even look at her. It hurt too much; a deep and twisting throb burned in his chest like a giant, red hot corkscrew whenever he looked at her. How though? Before he had last seen her, when he had told her he loved her, he could control his feelings for the woman he loved. And he did love her – he knew that now, more deeply and strongly than he had loved anything in a long while.

Before, he had buried those emotions down so deep that not even he was sure of their existence. Ianto had changed that, when he made Jack go after her. And ever since, thoughts of him and Gwen together, of him holding her close, had bubbled just under his skin like some rabid animal, tormenting him. No matter what he tried he couldn't stuff it back into the recesses of his mind. It was about as useful to try as shutting the door after the horse has bolted. So now he, Captain Jack Harkness, who wasn't afraid of anything, was reduced to skulking in his office for fear of bumping into one of his own team. She was the one thing he feared to face, and it was ironic that she was the one thing he would face anything for. He should really be filing those papers.

But still he couldn't bring himself to sort them. His thoughts were a riot of memories, all pleasant, but now tinged with a bitterness he found he couldn't remove. Maybe at first Gwen had just been seen as another conquest, another beautiful girl he could somehow seduce. But it had so quickly become more than that. Ever since he had first worked for Torchwood, he had realised that what they needed was somebody like her, to care, to feel compassion for the creatures they found. He could still remember so clearly that board-thing she had put up to show the life of Karris Fletcher. It still made him smile. Her compassion was something he had never encountered before, and it had made him stumble and stutter – two things that never happened to him. In truth, he had never quite recovered.

Since then, his feelings had only been strengthened. She was so strong, so beautiful, and she had led the team in his absence – the year that never was, but that had happened nonetheless, and that he regretted thoroughly. His heart had almost burst with pride and love when he first watched her in control. She was brilliant, there was no denying it.

He loved Gwen Cooper, and what he had done at the wedding, no matter how hard he tried to convince himself was for the best, was something he could never forgive himself for.

At least there was something though, he supposed; she hadn't taken Rhys' name when she married him. Could she have doubts? He dared to hope, though a stern side of him tried to crush those wonderings, tried to order him to be happy that she could have at least a partially normal life.

Was _she_ happy though – really happy? As happy as a woman should be with her new husband? He studied her body language, her actions which were more familiar to him than anything else. The tiniest shift in her mood he noticed, and he knew her habits as though they were his own. She was unhappy today. Unhappy and uncomfortable about something, he could tell, and it was preoccupying her day. He wondered what it could be, privately promising to himself that if Rhys ever hurt her in any way, no matter how small or how inconceivable a way, he would have Jack to answer to. How he wanted to go down there now and ask her what was wrong, to hold her and comfort her and feel her once again warm against him. But those were fantasies, and as her boss unspoken rules prevented him from doing exactly what he wanted. And that ring was as good as a flamethrower telling him to back off; just another mark of bondage that kept her out of his grasp. It would only cause her more pain in the end – nobody could get close to Jack and not end up hurt, and it disgusted him.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts and got on slowly with his work.

* * *

Gwen couldn't work. The report on her screen was only half finished, and the cursor blinked at her patiently, waiting for her to continue typing. But she couldn't. Her thoughts were tied up with the man who sat in the office above her workstation. Was he watching her? Was he thinking about her? Did he feel the same way?

Of course he feels the same way. She had caught his glances, had seen the way he watched her when he thought she wasn't looking. Again and again his words came back to her – _What kept me fighting was the thought of coming home to you_ – she could still feel the tingle that had shot through her hand at his touch, and the jump of her pulse through her veins. If he said it again to her would he still mean it? Would he look into her eyes as deeply as he did that day, pleading with her to understand? So many questions that she shouldn't even be considering. She was married. She had Rhys to talk to and confide in now, she shouldn't even be thinking that way about her boss – she couldn't bring herself to think of his name.

That memory was still hovering beneath her field of vision. It must have been important, so how could she have forgotten it? That was really what she was thinking about these days, when she wasn't in fear of her life, that was. Even when Rhys was chattering away in her ear about something, or they were eating dinner, her thoughts were far away, trying to dredge up that lost memory. All she had so far was a feeling of contentment, then horror and regret and guilt, followed by anger and a sense of some great betrayal. It hurt not to remember. It hurt to think that this was the reason Jack was avoiding her. Because he was avoiding her. The others shot glances at each other and at her, but they took Jack's excuse that he had a lot of paperwork to get through. But Gwen knew him better than the others, and there was the feeling of a brewing storm hanging around the Hub, and not even Ianto had dared brave their boss's office to give him coffee. Something was very wrong.

* * *

Tosh couldn't take it anymore. She had seen Jack watching Gwen from his lofty viewpoint, and Gwen stealing glances up at his office, and each time they missed each other by nanoseconds. She went to find Ianto, who was brewing coffee in a secluded part of the Hub.

'I'm sick of this, Ianto,' she confided in him. 'All Jack does is mope, and all Gwen does is file reports. It's like the spark's gone out of them both.'

'I know,' Ianto replied gravely. 'I've never seen Jack like this before. It's quite scary.'

'well, I think that one of us should just march up there and tell him like it is. Say Gwen's madly in love with him, and tell him to get his act together,' Owen grunted, coming over from the autopsy room – obviously he had got fed up at about the same time as Tosh. He removed his plastic gloves and tossed them in the dustbin. Ianto and Tosh looked at each other.

'Well volunteered, Owen,' Tosh said pleasantly. 'You could go right now, if you like – he doesn't look too busy.' She smiled innocently, as if wondering why Owen had suddenly become very quiet. Ianto was smirking ever so slightly.

'I didn't necessarily mean me,' the medic snapped. 'Why not get Teaboy here to do it since he knows Jack best?'

'Because 'Teaboy' isn't thick, Owen,' retorted Ianto pointedly.

'Oh, stop bickering!' Tosh said impatiently. The two men snapped to attention immediately. 'Now, what we need is a plan.'

'Wait, we might not need one,' Ianto said suddenly. 'Gwen's going up to his office.' The other two crowded round to watch.

* * *

Gwen knocked, swallowing the sudden apprehension that had threatened to grab her. She heard a terse 'come in', which sounded strangely unlike Jack, her Jack, and she entered.

Jack's eyes almost instantly dropped to the papers in his hands when he saw who it was. He knew it was childish to pretend she wasn't there, but what else could he do? He needed to rein in his emotions before he could look at her. He pretended to look through a stack of documents he had already sorted, and filed them away before steeling himself to look in her face.

Gwen stood nervously in front of his desk, feeling terribly unprotected. She held the report in her hand, having just finished it and decided that it would be better to confront him. About what, she didn't yet know. When he looked at her, his gaze stung. It was deliberately unfocused, and blank. Not just guarded as it usually was, but blank. He looked like a shell, and it was terrible to think it might be her fault. He didn't look her in the eye.

'What can I do for you?' he asked, pleasantly enough.

'I have that report you asked for,' she replied, handing it over. Why were they being so formal?

'Thankyou.' He tucked it in a folder on his desk.

'Jack, are you all right?' she asked before she could stop the words tumbling from her mouth. It pulled him up short, and it was like there was some sort internal struggle threatening to consume him.

'Why do you ask?' he managed to say.

'It's just you look a bit. . .off.' It was a lame excuse, but not exactly untruthful. He looked at her critically, obviously wondering the same thing about her, but chose not to say anything.

'I'm fine.' Pause. 'Looks like you're done for the day. You can go home.' He returned to his filing to show her the meeting was over, and she left the office feeling even more dejected than before.

Gwen didn't want to go home. She knew even Rhys would be able to spot her mood, and he'd ask questions. He'd want to know what was wrong. She wouldn't be in the mood to tell him. They'd end up arguing and she'd go to the pub just to escape him. Something told her married life wasn't supposed to be like this – at least not straight away.

Jack wouldn't ask, he'd know you need your space, but he'd be there if you wanted comfort, a little voice inside her said. He wouldn't need explanations. She tried to ignore it, but it was the truth. Still, she really didn't want to go home. There was that report – it wasn't due until the next week, but she could do it now and get it out of the way. Yes, she would do that.

About an hour later her phone rang. It was Rhys.

'Hey!' she said with mock enthusiasm.

'Hey. Is now a bad time?' Rhys sounded cautious.

'No, no, not at all.'

'I was just wondering when you'd be home, see, 'cos I got lasagne in the oven.'

'Oh, I might be a while. I have this report I've got to do,' Gwen replied casually. Only a very small part of her twinged with guilt at lying to her husband; the rest was growling at his need to keep tabs on her. What was she, a kid?.

'All right then. Bye.'

'Bye.'

She clicked the phone shut and cringed as he heard a stern voice behind her. 'I thought I told you to go home,' Jack said. He couldn't help but grin at the look on her face.

'I had a report to finish,' she replied too quickly.

'It's after eleven o'clock, everyone else has gone home.' Gwen shrugged for lack of anything else to say. 'I just thought,' Jack continued, 'that you would have more reason than everyone else to go 

home – and yet you're still here.' The implication was left hanging. He looked at her with calculating concern, arms folded in a stand-offish way. A classic Jack pose.

At that moment the Rift siren blared, making Gwen jump. She had been staring. He grinned at her and strode over to Tosh's screen. Just a weevil, nothing the two of them couldn't handle. But 'the two of them' had been what he was avoiding all week.

'Let's go then,' Gwen said, already getting her coat.

'What?'

'The weevil. I don't know about you, Jack, but maybe we should go and get it?' she suggested.

The air inside the SUV was tense. Neither Jack nor Gwen spoke unless it was Gwen giving directions. Each was very conscious of the other. The Rift tracer led them to an old shipyard that hadn't been knocked down yet. Inside were the telltale groans of a weevil. Jack pulled out his old Webley and stepped forward with caution, making sure Gwen stayed behind him. The area was almost pitch black, with only the glaring halogen lights of the SUV lighting the scene. He gave her a silent signal to move around to the side; the day's awkwardness had vanished, only to be replaced by a tense knowledge that this could turn into a life or death situation. Gwen didn't think it much of an improvement.

Inside the warehouse she couldn't see a thing, and the only way to find the weevil was to swing her torch in wide arcs, which was a pitiful substitute for real light. She could see Jack's torch doing the same at the other end of the building.

A low growl rumbled from her left, and a weevil lit up her sights, it shied away from the intense beam and snarled at her.

'Gotcha,' she murmured 'Jack, I found it.' She advanced slowly, weevil spray at the ready. It backed off, submissive, mewling, and she advanced, completely focussed.

A second growl issued from somewhere, and it wasn't the weevil in the light. There were two of them. Gwen swung round to see it charged for her out of the blackness and shot blindly at it. It howled but didn't stop as it careened into her.

'Gwen!' Jack shouted, rushing forwards. His heart thudded in his mouth and pulsed with his thoughts. No, please God no. Not her, not Gwen. Rage boiled within him as he sprinted the length of the warehouse, gun drawn, focussed only on one thing.

Gwen was on her back, gun-arm pinned beneath the thrashing weevil as it tried to reach her throat. Stinking saliva dripped thickly onto her face and its sharp teeth raked the air just millimetres away from her neck. One arm was jammed beneath its skull, barely keeping it off.

'Jack!' she screamed. 'Jack where the fuck are you!?'

Two shots rang out, and blood spattered down onto Gwen's shocked face as the weevil slumped, two bullets lodged in its brain. Jack hauled it off her and helped her to her feet, grinning like a maniac. This was all just a workout for him. Fun and games.

'You OK?' he asked.

'Yeah, fine. I get almost killed by weevils every day you know,' she replied. He just laughed. 'Jack,' Gwen said, suddenly remembering. 'There was another one.'

'Why didn't you say so?' His drew his Webley again and stood defending her back, and they circled, torches probing the darkness. He tried to ignore the slight shiver she caused just by standing as close as she was. There were growls and snarls echoing from the darkness. Clearly there was more than one weevil left alive.

'We going down fighting then?' Gwen asked, her gun darting every time she heard the slightest noise.

'I'll always fight for you Gwen,' he joked, with the barest glance behind him.

That phrase. She knew it from somewhere. It was that memory, that memory that lurked just beneath the surface of her mind. If she could just –

'Gwen, listen to me. I count three of them. When I say go, run for the door, kay?'

'Yup, got it.' Jack was using the voice he always used when they were in some incredibly dangerous situation. Not quite panic, but too hurried and loud to be just excitement. It sent a thrill though her body, adding to the adrenalin already skyrocketing her pulse.

'Ready?'

'No.'

'Good. Go!' They broke away from their cautious circling and ran for the tiny sliver of light at the end of the warehouse, Gwen right behind Jack, following him as she always would, no matter what. The weevils, startled by the sudden movement, were slow to chase, and by the time they reached the cavernous door, Jack and Gwen were in the SUV. The light blinded the creatures and they hissed, retreating to the safe darkness.

'Stay here,' Jack ordered, getting out again.

'What? Where are you going?' Sure, Jack couldn't die, but it didn't mean she wasn't worried.

'Doors,' he replied. 'We'll keep them in here and get them in the morning. Now, please, stay here.' He flashed a grin and was gone.

Everything was switched off when Gwen arrived back home; Rhys had gone to bed and left her lasagne on the table. It was stone cold, but she couldn't be bothered to heat it up. She wasn't hungry. That memory was plaguing her now, it was so close!

Quietly she changed and slipped into bed next to her husband, but sleep refused to come; she stared blankly at the ceiling for hours, forcing the memory to resurface. It had to. She needed to know. Maybe it wouldn't come if she forced it though, so she forced herself to think of nothing, and gradually drifted to sleep.

Review please, my little minions, and keep the egomaniac in me happy. Rewards of Jack Harkness with ice cream and cookies to those of you who do!


	6. Chapter 6

Come on people! Nearly 100 reviews - well, almost nearly 100 reviews. It would be nice to reach that, but I think the number I have in proportion to the number of chapters I've written is phenomenal, so thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far. Also, Can I apologise for not updating in such a very long time - I had six Torchwood boos to read, art coursework to finish, and LOADS of revision for my dratted GCSEs.

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PS, please go read my story 'We Found Torchwood 4!' - i promise it's good! And the review monsters for that sory aren't very happy...

'No, Jack. . .no. Bastard. How could he do it? I love him. . .Rhys. No, not Rhys, please. . .I can't, not anymore. Jack. I love him. But not like I love you. . .please no, don't leave me. I'm sorry, Jack, so sorry. . .'

Sunlight poured in through the window of Gwen's bedroom, waking her. She felt drained and cracked, as if she had been crying. She touched her cheeks; dried channels of salt smeared her face. So she had been crying. It was the memory. It had returned, full force, in her sleep, and had shattered her world. Jack had retconned her, and done it after telling her he loved her.

She rolled over in bed, trying to shake the confused haze that had settled over her thoughts. What would she do now? What _could _she do? That memory had shown her how she felt. It had shown her everything, even what she hadn't realised at the time – that Jack was her life force, and without him, she would be empty.

As well as the scene from the wedding, and the look in his eyes as she had denied him, there were others: she felt again her incomparable horror as he was slowly drained of life by Abbadon; the grief too great for action that had thumped through her at the sight of Jack's beautiful, lifeless body; it had almost destroyed her when he had vanished without a trace; she had convulsed in repulsion at the tortured gaze he had held when he had found out about the engagement; the wedding. At the wedding, he had simply melted into the background, unable to be part of the celebrations. Gwen alone had seen the tears threatening to spill over Jack's face.

Rhys wasn't in bed, and it was unusual for him to be up so early; it was unusual for Gwen to have slept so late. She made her way through to the kitchen-living area, where Rhys was sitting on the sofa, apparently deep in thought. Gwen quickly wiped away the tear streaks on her face and put on a false smile.

'Hey, you, you're up early,' she said.

'You were talking in your sleep,' he muttered, as if she hadn't said anything.

'Was I?' she asked, a cold feeling stalking don her back. 'What did I say?'

'You sounded pretty upset about something,' he replied. 'You mentioned Jack – and me.' Gwen suppressed the urge to run from the room as the cold sensation settled in her stomach. She knew exactly what she must have said, but it didn't mean she couldn't play innocent.

'What did I say?' she asked, frowning.

'You said you loved him. I got the impression you had done something, or he had. What's going on Gwen?' This was the first time Rhys looked round at his wife, and it struck him as he looked at her how little he knew her anymore. He had sat for a good hour going over it in his mind: the hours she spent at work, the nights when she didn't come home, the lies she told him – once, she had said she was working when he had seen her down the pub five minutes earlier. Hell, Rhys doubted she would have told him about Torchwood if he hadn't cornered her about it. And now she perched on the edge of the setee, like an animal poised for flight, trying to think of what crap she could feed him. He was sick of it.

'I don't know what to make of that,' she said quickly. 'It's nothing – dreams are nonsense, you know that.'

'Cut the shit Gwen. It's true isn't it?'

Gwen couldn't answer, and she couldn't look at him. His gaze would be terrified, pleading, dreading her answer. Finally her voice spoke, very quietly, of its own accord. 'I love you.'

'That's not an answer,' Rhys roared suddenly. 'I heard you last night – "I love him, but not like I love you, Jack". You think I'm stupid, don't you? You think I'll just sit here at home, gullible bastard that I 

am, while you're off fucking your boss! I know I'll never be as good as that bloody bastard, but I think I deserve a bit of honesty!'

Gwen stood up violently, her frame trembling with rage that spat from her eyes. 'Is that what you think of me, Rhys?' she shouted. 'Do you think so little of me? If you really have to know, not that I think it's any of your business, but Jack came to me on our wedding day and told me how he felt. Yes he loves me. But you know what? He was gracious and good enough to step aside when I told him I was going to marry you anyway. Now, I'm not sure I made the right choice, if this is what you think. Don't you dare blame Jack for any of this!' Tears were threatening to flow, but it was more from anger than anything else.

'I'll blame who I bloody well like!' Rhys hollered. 'If it wasn't for him, we wouldn't be in this mess! You wouldn't be out until God knows what time every night and I could actually talk to you more than once a week. when was the last time we shagged, Gwen, eh? When was the last time we did anything together? It's all bloody Captain Jack Harkness and bastard Torchwood – I'm sorry if I'm not good enough for you, miss I've-got-to-save-the-world-24/7. What else are you hiding under that rug of yours, eh? How many other times have you fucked guys behind my back?'

The sound of the strike rang through the silence that followed. Gwen had slapped him and now stood there, her hand still raised, trembling with barely controlled fury. That last had come too close for comfort, but Owen had been nothing on Jack, and she hadn't even done anything other than turn him away and break his heart.

'You have no right to say those things, Rhys. Jack is a better man than you. You have no idea what he suffers every single day,' she said very quietly. Somehow the words stormed round the room even as her eyes woke to the depth of her betrayal. Jack had suffered so much already. Her nerve suddenly broke. 'I can't face you like this Rhys,' she said, and fled the room.

Five minutes later she was fully dressed and ready to leave. She passed Rhys without a word, but her husband wasn't finished yet.

'Where do you think you're going?' he demanded.

'Believe it or not, Rhys,' she snapped, 'I actually have to work for a living.' She turned and stalked away.

'Yeah, that's right, go run to Jack – it's what you always do. Hell, we can't even have dinner without him whisking you away after some alien. I hope you two have fun together!' He lobbed the telephone directory at her retreating figure, and it thumped off the door frame five inches from her left shoulder. She turned round swiftly, and, with a frightened glance back at him, left the flat. Rhys instantly regretted what he had done.

Gwen fought the sobs all the way to the Hub, driving like a maniac to get to her parking space. They couldn't see her like this. Ianto would fuss, Tosh would be pitying, Owen would scoff, and Jack. . .what would Jack do if he saw her this way? He would be angry, she knew, furious that Rhys had dared treat her that way. Somehow that thought made her cry all the harder.

Eventually, spent, she staggered from her Saab, wiping the streaked mascara from her cheeks. She would act as though nothing was wrong – they wouldn't be able to tell.

She smiled at Ianto as she entered the little tourist office; he was just opening a box of leaflets.

'Ooh, what's that?' she asked, pleased that she sounded both jovial and interested.

Ianto smiled. 'New pamphlets for the castle,' he replied. 'Go on through – Jack's in a good mood today. At least, better than yesterday.' There was something congratulatory in his gaze that Gwen decided to ignore as she made her way down to the Hub.

'Have fun,' she said.

When the cog door rolled back, the sound of an argument reached Gwen's ears. Owen and Tosh, as usual. Why couldn't they just snog already? Of course, she couldn't talk, and she had been told not to use the word 'snog' by Owen several times. Today, they were squabbling about the conveniences of ASDA over Tesco.

'ASDA are cheaper on more branded products that Tesco,' Owen pointed out.

'_Branded _products, Owen,' Tosh retorted. 'What about all the products that are just the branded products that just have the supermarket logo stuck on them? Tesco are cheaper, and they have a greater choice of products anyway. And they're more environmentally friendly.'

'ASDA have better adverts,' Owen argued. It sounded a lot like he was losing the argument. Tosh rolled her eyes at him despairingly and turned to Gwen.

'Did you have fun last night?' she asked.

'What?'

'Those weevils you cornered in the warehouse. You and Jack single-handedly taking them down,' Tosh made it sound very romantic, probably on purpose.

'Yeah, we heard you almost became weevil chow,' Owen supplied, insensitive as ever.

'Almost, but not quite,' Gwen replied.

'Good thing Jack was there then. It would have been a shame if you'd have snuffed it.' Owen winked at Tosh, who blushed, and returned to his workstation. 'ASDA's just better, deal with it,' he added.

'Well, thanks, I think,' Gwen said, wondering what she had done to deserve Owen being nice to her. 'Where are the weevils now, Tosh?'

'Me and Ianto headed out first thing to round them up,' said a voice from behind her.

'Jack!'

Jack grinned. 'You're late. . .Mrs Williams,' he managed to say, the smile faltering slightly.

'Sorry, slept in.' Somehow she could tell Jack wasn't buying it, so she went to her workstation quickly before he could figure out it was something too major. That report still needed finishing.

The Hub had gone quiet. Jack had sent Tosh down to the archives to find some artefact or other to help them with a case, and Owen was autopsying an alien they had found last week on an industrial estate. Gwen typed the last letter of the report, a sense of satisfaction tingling up her arms now it was done and dusted. She handed it to Jack in his office and watched as he scanned it.

'Well done Gwen. At least one of my team keeps on top of things,' he said with a grin. Then, laying the file aside, he steepled his fingers over his desk. 'Now, what's wrong?' he asked. The way he held her gaze left no room for pathetic excuses or avoidances. Gwen found herself breaking down at his quiet observation. He had noticed when the others hadn't, when she had hidden it so well. He was so attuned to her moods. She bit her lip to stop the tears from choking her again.

'Nothing, nothing's wrong,' she answered weakly.

'Gwen?' Jack checked. Maybe he had gone too far, maybe he should have left it alone because that's what she was doing. But it was something he couldn't do; something had hurt Gwen, and he wanted to know what it was. A quiet sob escaped her even as she tried to force it back, and in an instant he was on his feet, wrapping her in a comforting hug, all priority of personal barriers forgotten. All that mattered was Gwen.

She leaned into him, his warm scent and firm grip soothing her as much as crying did.

'Sshh,' he murmured, rocking her in his arms. Tosh came up the stairs with a report, but he shook his head pointedly and watched as she nodded and retreated back into the Hub. 'Easy, Gwen, I'm here, sshh,' he continued to calm her down, refusing to say 'everything's all right', because it clearly 

wasn't. She would tell him what was wrong if she wanted. If she didn't, he could guess. Sometimes he really really wanted to punch Rhys – the man didn't seem to know what he had.

He led Gwen into his chair, and went to close the door to his office – there was no need to let the others know about this, Gwen wouldn't want it. He watched her for a moment trying to compose herself and sighed mentally, thinking how sometimes she could try and be too strong. He should never have left her to lead the rest of them, and it would be something he would always berate himself for.

'I'm sorry Jack,' she told him through her hiccoughs.

'What for?' he asked incredulously, going to her again.

'I r-remember, Jack,' she said. 'I remember that day, w-what you tried to make me forget.' Jack immediately stiffened, waiting for the inevitable barrage to strike him – she had always been iffy about retcon at the best of times. But it never came, she just sniffled a bit and looked helplessly pretty. 'Oh Jack, I've been such an idiot!' and she dissolved again into another wave of tears, burying her face deep into Jack's shoulder to find comfort.

'Sshh,' he soothed again. 'Tell me what happened.' The gentleness of his voice released Gwen and she spilled everything about what had happened that morning; how she had remembered and Rhys had heard her talking in her sleep, about their argument and how he had nearly hit her with the phone book. Jack's fists clenched at this, his blood rising at the thought of what he would do to Mr Williams next time he saw him.

'Jack, I love you,' Gwen sobbed finally. 'And I'm so sorry for everything I've done to you.'

'You haven't done anything,' he whispered back, close to tears himself. How many times had he lain awake at night thinking about those words issuing from her beautiful lips? He enjoyed the moment, wallowed in it, because his long life had taught him that such moments of comfort were very short lived indeed.

Rhys entered the Hub through the cog door, and immediately catching sight of the Japanese girl, asked where Gwen was.

'She's in Jack's office,' Tosh replied, wincing as she realised what she had just said. 'But I don't think you should go –'

'Thanks,' Rhys cut her off loudly, trudging up the stairs.

He banged open Jack's office and looked round for a fight. Jack, thinking one of his team had barged in without permission, leapt up ready to lay down the law. Seeing Rhys, he faltered slightly, but put himself between him and Gwen and glared. She could see that black aura crackling around him again. She put a hand on her boss's arm to steady him.

'What are you doing here, Rhys?' she asked.

Rhys's eyes were popping. 'I came here to apologise for this morning, but I see now I wasn't that wrong. Who the fuck do you think you are, Harkness?'

Jack drew himself up and bore down on Rhys, glaring in a way that any lesser man might have quailed and ran away. 'I think I'm the one who Gwen comes to when her husband throws phone books at her,' he growled.

'Jack,' Gwen warned.

But Jack wasn't finished. He stepped even closer to Rhys and hissed in his ear so that Gwen couldn't tell what he was saying. 'You're lucky she's here. It's only because of her that you aren't on the floor screaming in agony right now.' He spat every ounce of hatred he felt for the man into his voice, noticing with pleasure how Rhys flinched slightly.

'Jack,' Gwen insisted again. She didn't want them to fight, mostly because Jack would only be pushed so far before he lost control. Rhys looked ready to go over the edge already, but if he threw a punch at her boss, he wouldn't last long. Jack glanced back at her then stared Rhys down again.

'I want you out of my building, now,' he snarled.

'Fine,' the shorter man snapped, trying to regain a bit of dignity. 'Come on, Gwen.'

'I'm not going Rhys,' she said in a small voice.

'What?'

'I said I'm staying here.'

Rhys looked flabbergasted, betrayed. He glanced from his wife to Jack and back again, momentum building in his anger. It took him forward and Gwen cringed away from him, not wanting any more conflict. Jack stopped him with a hand on his elbow.

'I think the lady wants you to leave,' he said in a steely voice. 'Get out, now.'

'Fuck you, Harkness, she's my wife,' Rhys snapped.

'Ianto, get in here, I need you to help me to escort Mr Williams from the building,' Jack spoke into a comm.

'On my way sir,' came the crisp reply.

With one last look round at Gwen, who was avoiding his eyes, and to Jack who was ready to spring between them again should he move closer to her, Rhys admitted defeat. 'Fine. I can leave myself,' he grunted, and stormed out of the office.

Jack watched him go with a very unpleasant look on his face, wanting to punch him once at least just for posterity's sake – but the distraught arrangement of Gwen's features made her look so fragile that he stopped himself, and went to her instead, wrapping a strong arm round her shoulders. She reached up, grateful for the contact.

'Come on,' he said after a while. 'You look like you could do with a pint.'

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Woot, so that's another chapter done, and a nice bit of Owen/Tosh thrown in for you there as well - just a random question, is ASDA or Tesco better? :)

If you want to see what happens next, and whether i decide to put Rhys out of his misery and let him be run over by a bus, please review, it makes my day and stops the review monsters from poking me :)


	7. Chapter 7

My loyal fans, has it been so long? I'm truly sorry, but GCSEs were horrible, and NayClem has been sabotaging me by making me watch House - not that I'm really complaining about that, I love House.

I'm waffling it seems.

Unforunately, there won't be too many chapters after this one, three at the most i'd say, but more likely two. But they're gonna be REALLY good

I'm waffling again :)

* * *

It had been a long time since Gwen had felt this. . .special. When she had been in the police, a lifetime ago, Rhys had often taken her on dates. She had had time then to relax, to be just a normal person, and not another faceless officer of the law. That had been before Torchwood, before the blanket of normalcy and security had been ripped away from her eyes and she had seen the real world. That had been before _him._

Jack walked next to her now, so close their bodies touched, and Gwen could feel his warmth beneath the RAF greatcoat. It comforted her as she hung on his arm, letting herself be led to a little place round the corner he knew. At least she looked half way presentable now, after her boss had painstakingly removed the smudged mascara and dried tears from her face, as tenderly as if scared he could hurt her by doing so. He smiled down at her now, that infectious grin that she couldn't help but return. But there was something else there this time, pride, and. . .love, bared for all the world to see.

Gwen shivered slightly in the breeze sweeping off the bay.

'You cold?' Jack asked. She shook her head, even as he pulled off his coat and draped it over her shoulders, placing a small kiss on her forehead as he did so. 'Better?'

'Of course.' She pulled the coat around her, inhaling Jack's scent and feeling the warm wool scratch her cheeks. 'Aren't you cold?' she asked with concern.

'Nope. I don't get cold. That coat is merely to make me look good,' Jack grinned, still watching her.

They made their way through the centre of Cardiff's restaurant district to a small, dingy looking pub.

'This is the famous Murphy's, is it?' Gwen asked dubiously.

'Yup,' Jack replied. 'Don't be fooled by appearances – it's just to keep away the riffraff.' Gwen stared at the shabby Victorian exterior, blackened by smog with no light shining out through the windows – which looked like they hadn't been cleaned in a good century. Never mind the riffraff, this place looked like cockroaches would avoid it.

Inside, however, the decor of cool blues and brassy golds gave a relaxed air and made Gwen calmer than she had been all day.

'Wow,' she gasped, drinking it all in.

'Told ya,' Jack said boyishly, removing the coat from her shoulders. She absent-mindedly where Owen and Tosh were.

'I thought it would be better just you and me,' Jack replied, the smirk returning. 'Ianto took them off to a club and plans to err, accidentally get lost in the crowd.' Gwen's inquisitive smile faltered slightly at the mention of Jack's lover, but Jack simply smiled again and said they had worked things out between them. 'Don't worry, tonight, you have my undivided attention. I am at your command.' He bowed, sweeping his arms out in a regal mockery that made her laugh. It had been so long since she laughed like that.

He led her to a booth and sat her down, telling her to think _very carefully _about what she wanted to do to him while he went to get drinks. She rolled her eyes at the innuendo. Every bad thing that had happened to her, all arguments with Rhys, seemed to fade away when she was with Jack; his presence, so frightening to his enemies, was like her own personal sun. It always felt like nothing could harm her when he was around.

Jack returned to their table holding two beers, but looked slightly worried when he saw Gwen. She was sitting with her arms and legs crossed, with that determined expression on her face that Jack both found irresistible and terribly annoying. She knew that face could make him do anything. And usually it was something he wasn't going to like.

'So, have you decided what you want yet?' he asked as he handed over her pint.

'I want to know about you,' she replied, meeting his eyes almost defiantly. They were open wide and all Jack wanted to do at that particular moment was leap across the table and take her then and there. But her gorgeous green eyes kept him in place.

'What do you mean, know about me?' he asked, slightly guardedly. 'You know more about me than almost anyone.'

'And it's hardly anything,' she replied. 'I don't know anything about. . .who you were before Torchwood, what you did, where you came from. I want to know.' These last words were said with compassion that had been responsible for recruiting her to Torchwood, the compassion that Jack had searched for for over a century and then some.

'Why do you want to know?' he retorted. 'I've told you before: here and now, that's what I'm proud of.'

'Without a past how can you hope to have a future?' Gwen asked innocently. If it had been anyone else he would have snapped back that he had no future, because he was the one and only fact of time and space with the whole of eternity yawning open for him in its infinite blackness. But he couldn't do that to her, not when she was sitting so placidly across the table from him.

'I –' he began, hoping that words would magically spring to his mouth. He was annoyed; for once he, Captain Jack Harkness, was lost for words!

'You said anything I wanted,' Gwen said with a gleam in her eyes. 'I want answers.'

He gave in to her. It would have happened anyway, and doing it now would save a lot of time. 'I did say that didn't I? Me and my big mouth.' He shot her his cheesy grin. 'It's gotten me into trouble more than once, you know. There was this one time with a Draxnian who –'

'Jack.'

He held up his hands in defeat. 'Okay, okay, I see tangents aren't going to work. What do you want to know?'

Gwen smiled that gap-toothed grin of hers and leaned in. Jack could smell strawberries and cream on her hair and had to suppress the mental image of him running his hands through it.

'What's your real name?'

'Jack Harkness.' She crossed her arms and glared at him. 'Seriously, I've had this name for so long that it is my name now,' he elaborated, only just realising how true it was. 'I took the name from a captain in the American Volunteers who was shot down out on manoeuvres. I met him once, so did Tosh. He was nice.'

'How long have you been called Jack?' Gwen asked.

'More than 150 years,' he replied. His eyes became distant as his mind wandered back over all the long decades he had spent in Cardiff, waiting for the Doctor.

'Who's the Doctor? How did you meet him?'

'Long story.'

'I'm not going anywhere.' Her gaze was intense as she watched him wondering how much of his life he should give away. Eventually he sighed. Out of all of them, he decided Gwen was the most worthy to hear the truth; she had, after all, been with him to face Abbadon, she had led the team while he was away.

So he told her everything. From the beginning. His days in the time agency and how they had wiped his memory. Then meeting the Doctor in war-time Britain and travelling with him through the universe. His voice caught slightly as he told Gwen about Rose, Rose who was trapped on a parallel world and made it so that he could never die.

And he didn't stop there. It felt good to finally unload all of the worry and stress that had plagued him for over a century. Gwen listened silently, absorbing the information like a sponge, and she realised this was the only time Jack had told his full story out loud. It touched her that her boss would put so much trust in her.

* * *

In the neon-lit cellar of _Club Bleu _Owen was stretching languorously across the bar towards Tosh, who was shyly sipping a lilac coloured cocktail through a straw. Ianto had disappeared five minutes ago, and the conversation seemed to have upped and left with him. The silence hung between the two like a curtain, and they were keeping a careful and conscious five inches between their bodies.

'Where do you think Ianto's gone?' Tosh ventured when she deemed enough tequila had entered her system.

'He's taking his sweet time, wherever he is,' Owen replied lazily, watching a group of girls on a hen night swigging beers and chatting up guys like a sick puppy. Tosh saw the direction of his gaze and blushed.

A new song started blaring over the speakers in the club, and Owen perked up. 'You want to dance?' he asked casually.

Tosh choked on her cocktail, holding up a hand as she coughed. 'What?'

'Do you want to dance?'

'Oh,' Tosh said, blushing even deeper. 'Okay.'

* * *

Ianto watched the cog door roll back and heard the familiar grating siren as it closed behind him. With Jack out comforting Gwen and Tosh and Owen getting more familiar with each other, there was nobody else to watch the Rift. He liked to think of the part he played in getting his friends together – maybe he should become a professional matchmaker.

Over at his station, he typed on a few keys and smiled as the CCTV footage appeared on the screen. There were Tosh and Owen behind the club, staggering away in each other's arms, and his other two colleagues were walking along the brightly lit pavement outside Cardiff's restaurant district. Gwen was wearing Jack's coat again, and leaned into him like it was the most natural thing in the world. Jack was telling her a joke and she laughed. Ianto couldn't deny that he missed Jack's arm around him like that, but the pang in his gut faded away when he saw the smile on Gwen's face. She was happy, happier than she had been in a long time.

All was right with the world.

One of the sirens on Tosh's computer flared up, flashing its orange light around the Hub. Ianto rushed over just as the screen flickered into life, showing a black and white, grainy CCTV image. One frame showed a vacant scene in Butetown, a Transit lorry parked on double yellow lines. Next, there was a large flash; the screen went fuzzy. A shadow passed over the buildings – a _big_ shadow. Whatever the thing was swooped round. It approached the camera in a single frame and then the camera disconnected. Whatever it was had destroyed it.

'Shit!' Ianto gasped, glad that his teammates weren't there to see or hear his outburst. He raced over to the phone and dialled his team's numbers. No doubt Tosh would have her scanner with her, picking up every Rift disturbance, but the others wouldn't know anything had happened.

'Jack?'

'Ianto!' Jack sounded very happy about something, and Ianto was sure he heard Gwen giggle in the background. 'What's up? You want to join us?' Gwen giggled again.

'Sir, something's just come through the rift. It's big and it just took out a security camera in Butetown,' Ianto replied professionally, replaying the footage and refining it for the rest of the team when they came in.

Jack's boss-mode kicked in immediately – his serious mood rippled down the line. 'We'll be there in five minutes.'

* * *

Tosh, lying blissfully in Owen's arms, on Owen's bed, heard a faint buzzing sound through her sleep. It was dismissed at first, but the burring grew insistent. She realised after two minutes that it was, in fact, her mobile with the Rift energy detector that was disturbing her sleep. She bolted upright, peering blearily through her raven hair, muddled by sleep and sex, and looked around for her bag. She only just realised how naked she was beneath Owen's silk sheets. He didn't wake up as she scooped up the duvet to cover herself, stumbling over the crimson train on her way to her bag.

'Shit,' she breathed when she saw Ianto's message plastered over the screen: BUTETOWN RIFT SPIKE DANGER LEVEL HIGH. 'Owen!' she cried. Owen mumbled something but didn't wake up. Tosh, her eyes full of urgency, hurriedly shook him awake.

'Whassit?' he asked groggily.

'Emergency,' was the short reply, as Tosh was already picking up her scattered clothes from the floor. Owen just watched her, wondering why it had taken him this long to think to screw her. Tosh was gorgeous. He decided to tell her so, enjoying the slight blush that crept attractively into her cheeks. Tosh, of course, ever the businesswoman, told him to stop it and get dressed.

Within half an hour the entire team of Torchwood Cardiff was assembled in the Hub, looking at the cleaned up footage of the brand new threat: the gaping jaws of a gigantic flying reptile.

Sorry, no sex scenes, i'm saing myself for another story. But this one has so much already, I thought the suggestion of sex as opposed to detail would be enough - this story is about emotion after all.

Reviews are nice, I like reviews, and I was hoping to reach a total of 100 reviews for this story...(hint: reviews make me type faster, which means you get the fantastic story finale a bit earlier!)


	8. Chapter 8

Oh, my good people, this is the second to last chapter! This is almost goodbye! Please don't hate me for this chapter, but please, remember IT IS NOT THE LAST ONE!! I guarantee this because the last chapter is written and it's not this one - kay, just making it clear.

And I did't just mae up these ways of killing dragons, I found them on the internet. :)

Oh yeah, and ignore my little...tangent in the footnote. Only Angel's Grace and other phans will get the joke, and only Angel's Grace will kill me for it...

* * *

The team were looking up at the strangely proportioned creature before them on the screen. Tosh, as soon as she had come in, had pulled more CCTV images of the beast that had come through the Rift. To anyone but the Torchwood team, it might have been a trick of the light, or a mass hallucination.

'Is that. . .a dragon?' Gwen asked in disbelief.

'Certainly seems so,' replied Ianto. The scales, twenty-foot wingspan, vicious claws and teeth, and the car that was gently smouldering underneath its perch pretty much gave it away.

'Where did it come from?'

'I'm scanning it now,' Tosh said. 'Traces of Rift energy. Vitals say it's warm blooded. There's a store of hydrogen next to the lungs.'

'Cool!' cried Owen. He had just come up from the armoury carrying several large nets and some _really _big guns. 'This means that we can cross yet another mythological creature off the list. That makes what now? Dragons, banshees, Chimera, werewolves, Spiderman –'

'Spiderman?'

'That last one was a joke, Tosh,' Owen said, back to his usual self among company. 'You know, funny ha-ha.'

'Thankyou Owen for that fantastic insight,' Tosh snapped sarcastically. The others were impressed. Normally their resident computer genius would have blushed and turned away. Judging by the way Owen actually _smiled _at Tosh, Jack and Gwen could tell something was going on between them. Ianto knew already of course.

'If we could get back to real life,' Jack interrupted. 'It looks like we've got a dragon to catch.'

'Let's go then!'

'No.' The command made everybody stop in their tracks. Jack was usually the one leading the charge as they headed off. Owen wondered if it had anything to do with the way Jack was looking at Gwen this morning. Well, either way it was about time those two shagged.

The captain was aware of his team staring at him, waiting for an explanation. 'Usually when we go in, we know something about we're dealing with, but this time we don't, and I don't want to run in blind and end up losing someone because of it.' They all knew he meant everyone by this, but Ianto noticed his boss's eyes flicker over Gwen for a nanosecond. Jack didn't want to lose her so soon.

'Well then it's a good thing I did some research while you were all getting here then isn't it?' Ianto spoke into the silence, grinning around slightly at his co-workers. 'According to myth, which is sometimes useful, dragons were killed by knights on horseback –'

'Well that's brilliant,' Owen complained. 'Anyone got the number of the local riding school? Maybe they have some to spare.'

'Owen, shut up.' Owen scowled at his new lover.

'Thanks, Tosh. As I was saying, in the most common stories, dragons were killed by knights, but I found an interesting article that says you can fill a calfskin with pitch, fat and oil and offer it to the dragon.'

'How does that work?' Jack asked.

'Very messily.'

'Right. . .anything else?'

'Well, there was something about getting donkeys and loading them with quicklime –'

'How the hell does that help?' Owen interrupted.

'Supposedly, the dragon would wash down the meal with water, the water would react with the quicklime and. . .the dragon would burst into flames,' Ianto finished, acutely aware of the fact that neither of these methods were particularly useful to the task in hand. He found the internet's lack of information had hit him like a personal insult. Attention quickly turned to what Tosh's bio-scans had found out.

'The creature is a vertebrate, so possible severing of the spinal column could kill it,' Tosh informed them.

'Great,' said Gwen, picking up one of the guns the medical officer had brought. 'That means we're back to plan A.' God, she looks sexy with a gun, Jack thought, and couldn't help grinning. He gave the order to move out. The leaped to the task with the enthusiasm he expected of them; Ianto got the SUV while Gwen, Tosh and Owen gathered up all the equipment they needed. Jack of course, went to fetch his RAF overcoat and antique Webley from the back of the chair in his office. Within five minutes they were racing down Cardiff's main roads to Butetown, Tosh's mobile technology making light work of diverting any early morning traffic that happened to be crossing their path.

* * *

Rhys didn't usually drink, but when he did, he just couldn't stop himself. The way he dealt with his sorrows was to drown them. Gwen. He wouldn't be staggering round from pub to pub if it wasn't for her. Her and bloody Captain Jack Harkness. Rhys just wanted to punch his lights out, regardless of whether it would actually work or not. He wasn't sure if Harkness's lights could be punched out.

The look on her face was the worst part of it; the tears rolling down her beautiful, beautiful cheeks. He had seen every emotion from her before: joy, sorrow, anger – she was very good at anger – defiance, compassion. But never fear. The look that had stolen her features when he had – when he had - when the phone directory had almost hit her, was terror, plain and simple. And now she had left him. It was all his fault!

No, Rhys corrected himself. It wasn't his fault. Hadn't he always been there for her? Hadn't he always put up with her shit about work, all those missed dates and cancelled dinners? Hadn't he always been loving? No, it wasn't him, it was all that Captain Jack Harkness. Him and Torchwood. They had brainwashed her, turned her against him. All this had started when she had got that new job at 'special ops'. She had never lied to him before then. Torchwood had stolen his Gwen and replaced her with something. An alien? That was what they did, wasn't it?

Well, he was going to get her back, no matter what the cost. He was going to get his Gwen back and he was going to fuck up Jack bloody Harkness as badly as he possibly could.

Rhys collapsed unconscious onto the pavement in an anonymous corner of Butetown. As he fell, he could have sworn he saw a flash of light and smelled rancid sulphur, but it must have just been his synapses short-circuiting.

* * *

'Ugh!' Gwen covered her nose as she alighted from the SUV. 'What's that smell?'

Jack inhaled like he was a city man sniffing in the delightful freshness of a sea breeze. 'That, Gwen, is the fantastic smell of sulphur.'

'It smells like rotten eggs!'

'Or it could just be rotten eggs,' Jack amended with one of his boyish grins. 'But my money's on sulphur. Toshiko, can you see it?'

A loud screeching sound tore the air, followed but a deafening roar. At the end of the road a black Saab crashed to the pavement in a tangle of twisted metal and shattered glass. The Torchwood team gazed at it, almost entranced, until another roar shattered the air above them. The dragon was diving at them, its wings pinned close to its chest and its maw gaping wide. The others cowered but Jack stood tall and emptied his Webley into the thing's skull. It howled in pain and rage and pulled out of its sharp descent, its barbed tail still managing to gouge a large chunk out of the SUV's roof.

'I hope that'll buff out,' Ianto muttered darkly. That thing was going to pay for that, no matter if it was on the Welsh flag.

'Right, everyone, stay in tight formation,' Jack barked, going once more into boss mode. 'Toshiko, keep an eye on it from the SUV. Owen, get the canons out here – never mind the nets, we're going to have to kill this thing.'

Gwen wasn't listening. She was looking at the mangled car that lay pathetically barely one hundred metres away. She recognised it with a spear of dread. That was her car. She had left it at home but –

'Rhys,' she whispered in horror. Oh God, what have I done? She thought. If Rhys is lying dead somewhere it'll be my fault. It'll be all my fault! Without realising her feet were moving, she began to walk towards the wreck as if in a trance. She sped up. There was no way it could be her car. It had to be an illusion. What if Rhys was inside it?

Her own thoughts crowded so much in her brain that she couldn't hear Jack calling her name.

'Gwen! GWEN!' he shouted, all too aware that the monster was circling and would be back any second. He was torn between his team and the woman he loved. She was unarmed. She couldn't hear his cries. He went after her.

The dragon appeared a second later, dropping from the sky like an angry meteorite. It ignored the two running figures and went straight for the large black thing that had hurt it before. Shots of hated metal cannoned into its flanks and punched holes in its wings, causing it to scream so loudly that everyone close had to cover their ears. But it didn't falter. Its jaws parted. Red tongues of flame began to lick at its fangs and tongue.

'Tosh! Look out!' Owen managed to shout before the SUV was consumed in a fireball that towered above the houses.

Black smoke poured into the sky as the upholstery caught fire. Sparks flew as Tosh's equipment short-circuited and combusted. The heat was unbearable.

'Come on,' Ianto grunted. 'We've got to get –' the sonic wave of the explosion cut him off, and all three of them were catapulted through the scorching air as the SUV was completely destroyed. It was now nothing more than a carcass of smouldering metal and computers, a shell. Bits of the bodywork were scattered like beetles and writhing snakes across the pavement and the road, impaled in trees, lawns, potholes, and the three still figures lying motionless on the black earth. The dragon, its ruby scales glittering malevolently in the light from the flames circled ominously, its screeches of triumph rending the cloudy sky with chilling elation.

* * *

Jack caught up to Gwen staring at the wreckage of what was once her Saab. There was no blood, no mangled limbs, so Rhys was not dead. At least not here. Dark images flashed through Gwen's mind of his body, mutilated in the dirt. What if she had somehow caused it? What if she was in some way responsible for his death? Guilt was trying to force its way with tears up her throat but she shoved the painful lump away. Rhys might still be alive somewhere and she had to find him.

'Gwen!' Jack called to her. She turned, apology in her eyes. She was going to run and find her husband. Jack had recognised the car too. He caught hold of her before she could sprint away.

'Let go of me Jack,' she warned. 'Let go!' she pounded and kicked him as he held her.

'Gwen, Gwen! Listen to me. If we don't fight off that thing now, then lots of people could die,' Jack pleaded. He was as always amazed at her loyalty to Rhys, the man who had treated her so badly, but his soldier's mind was in command now, and he knew he couldn't afford to waste any more time looking for a civilian.

'I need to find him Jack!' Gwen sobbed openly. 'I need to find him! He could be dead, he could be dying!' She gave up as that image of Rhys lying burnt and broken in the mud once again invaded her mind. She let Jack hold her close as he hurriedly tried to soothe her.

'The best way to help Rhys now is to fight,' Jack was saying. 'That's your job.'

She pulled away from him. He was heartless. How could he think of jobs and duty at a time like this? Didn't he understand that she _needed _to find him? She had treated Rhys so badly –

A blast of burning air knocked them off their feet. Jack's shoulder was ripped open as he collided with a lance of sharded metal from the Saab, but he forgot the agony as he took in the scene of carnage before his eyes.

The SUV was destroyed. His team were nowhere in sight and the dragon was now perched on the burning remains, screeching the claim of its kill to the sky.

'NO!' he cried. How could this have happened? How could everything have gone so wrong in so little time? Shock and overwhelming panic threatened to swallow him for a second before his training forced it back. He tried his comm. and swore when there was no reply. If his team was dead then there was nothing more he could do for them; he had to look to the living. He had to carry on.

Gwen had been knocked over in the explosion too. With a gasp he eased himself off the twisted metal, but when he turned to check Gwen over, she had vanished.

When the explosion came Gwen didn't think. It had incapacitated her boss, the man who was keeping her from finding Rhys, and without even turning to see what had happened, she had fled. It never occurred to her that the only thing large enough to cause such a blast was the Torchwood SUV, or that her friends might now be lying burnt and broken in the mud. The only thought that penetrated her panic was Rhys.

She found him. He was lying prone on a cold pavement round the corner, covered in scrapes. It looked like he had been in a brawl.

'Rhys? Rhys, speak to me!' Gwen pleaded, trying to wake him. She checked his pulse and his breathing like Owen had taught her.

'Gwen?' Rhys groaned, coming to. 'Is that you?'

'Oh my God Rhys, you scared the shit out of me.' Gwen sighed in relief, oblivious to the tears coursing down her cheeks. 'Are you okay?'

Rhys didn't notice the soot that caked his wife's face, or the way her shoulders were trembling with shock. All he saw was the way she had disregarded him back in the Hub, the way she had turned to her boss for comfort. He was still drunk.

'Oh, so now you care about me?' he spat.

'Rhys? What –'

'Don't you dare give me any bullshit about not knowing what I'm talking about Gwen!' His voice was rising steadily. 'You left me! You just left me for Captain Flash! You don't care at all, do you?'

Gwen was confused, bewildered by his reaction to her. She had been so relieved to see him alive and safe; she had expected him to feel the same. Why didn't he? Shock was starting to fuddle her brain, she managed to realise, but still couldn't work out why Rhys held this resentment towards her.

'His name's Jack,' she said quietly, but that just made things worse.

'You still don't care, do you!?' Rhys exploded. 'Ever since you joined Torchwood I've come second Gwen! You've lied and cheated me, fucking your boss behind my back, mocking me!' All the bitter thoughts harboured over these long months came flooding out in a self-righteous torrent that the tiny sober part of Rhys' brain couldn't control. Every thought, every ill wish, came spilling out of his 

mouth now, the tirade visibly battering Gwen, who was shrinking under the onslaught. 'You wouldn't have even told me about your cosy little job if I hadn't pried it out of you, would you?'

'That's not -!' But she stopped. Because it was true. Every word of what he had said. But she still loved him. And she hated him.

'Rhys,' she whispered, moving forward to touch him, to find comfort.

'Fuck off Gwen,' he said viciously, turning his back.

'You don't understand!' Gwen pleaded. 'I saw the car. I thought you were dead!'

'I don't want to hear it.'

'I came to find you – you!'

Rhys struck her so hard she fell. 'I said I didn't want to hear it,' he hissed. The golden band that had adorned his hand fell to the ground with a hollow clatter. Gwen stared at it, unable to believe what she was seeing, unaware of the shadow that was growing across the pavement.

'Gwen!' It was Jack, running towards her.

'Jack,' she said, hope creeping into her voice.

'Gwen! Don't move!'

'What?'

'Don't move! Keep completely still!' He had stopped now, and had drawn his Webley. It was pointed at a point about two feet above Gwen. Unable to resist, she turned round slowly.

The dragon was draped across the front of the building behind her, its wings half furled and its terrible jaws slightly parted to reveal sword-long fangs coated in yellowish saliva. The putrid reek of rotten eggs eased through its teeth as the great lungs exhaled. Its large yellow eyes were fixed wickedly on the man in the long coat.

Jack wasted no time in loosing the bullets into its skull, but the bone and scales were too hard for the lead to penetrate all the way to the brain. It howled, shying away and shaking its head to rid itself of the sudden pain. Jack wasted no time in scooping Gwen up and hurrying her away.

'What the hell were you thinking!?' he demanded as he checked her over. There was no way that red mark on her cheek had been made by the monster. Rage bubbled inside him.

'I'm sorry, Jack,' she murmured. 'I'm so sorry.'

'It's going to be okay,' he lied gently, thinking that for once such sentiments wouldn't hurt. Even so his mind kept crashing back the charred remains of the street behind.

'It looks different,' Gwen observed. It was true; this one was pale silver, like the colour of a ghost carp, and it was smaller and slimmer than before. 'Jack, why's it different?'

'Because there's two of them,' Jack grunted. He was desperately trying to think of a way to kill these things. There weren't enough bullets in the world to get through the thick scales, but there had to be a weak spot _somewhere_.

'What about the eyes?' Gwen asked suddenly.

'What?'

'The eyes. If you shoot it in the eyes the skull behind it might be weak enough to break up – it works with crocodiles.'

Jack didn't even begin to wonder where Gwen had found out that bit of information, but it could work. But there was no way Gwen could get close enough to aim. He would have to do it.

'Stay here,' he instructed, reloading. She nodded. Suddenly she pulled him in and kissed him deeply, savouring his taste on her tongue.

'I'm coming back,' Jack murmured, surprised.

'I'm always scared you won't,' she admitted with a weak smile. Quickly he kissed her forehead and turned to face the creature. A knight in shining RAF greatcoat.

There was a scream. It was Rhys. He was running randomly away, still too drunk to do anything but panic and flee. The beast was following him from the sky, overtaking him easily and landing with a crunch on the concrete. It snarled at him, baring its long fangs, playing. Rhys screamed again as it advanced slowly.

Jack was running towards them, the man and the monster, his gun drawn, fearless. 'Hey!' he shouted.

The dragon looked up, its nostrils drinking in the scent of the new threat. He was holding some sort of weapon, it knew, something that made him fearless. Or maybe just stupid. It turned its head to better survey this puny animal that stood so defiantly before it, but that was all Jack needed. The shot rang out and the dragon recoiled, its limbs suddenly jerking haphazardly, its neck rolling on the limber vertebrae. The screech echoing from its mouth shattered the glass in nearby windows. It was dying. But it wasn't dead yet.

Enraged, breathing an inferno into the grey sky, it stormed over to the nearest thing and Jack could only watch helpless as Rhys tumbled through the air and slammed off a wall. The thing was mad; it turned and writhed all over the street, its tail and limbs smashing brickwork and gouging lawns as the synapses in its brain fizzled out one by one.

'Jack!' Gwen shouted, vaulting from her hiding place as fast as her legs could move. He was going to be crushed, burned to a crisp, killed! She couldn't let it happen.

'Gwen! Don't!' Jack hollered, watching in slow motion as the dragon, in one last burst of cognitive thought, focussed on Gwen's desperate voice and went for her. Jack pelted it with lead, shooting at its massive eye again and again until his revolver ran out. It was dead. The last nerve ending had snapped.

But its momentum still carried it forward, ever forward, in Gwen's path. She watched it as a rabbit watched approaching headlights, knowing that if it doesn't move, it will die, but is unable to run anyway. Its giant claws were still reaching out, though now without direction, and she watched, like a spectator in her own body, as one of the long, black sabres pierced her flesh. Only dimly was she aware of Jack racing towards her, his face a contorted scream of rage, terror, disbelief, and a hundred other emotions that all knotted into one as he screamed her name. The world was going hazy round the edges.

'No, please, God, no,' Jack was in pieces as he reached Gwen. Not her too. He didn't know what he would do if she died too. Desperately he gathered her into his arms, trying to staunch the flow of blood as it flooded the ground in a crimson pool. 'Gwen, listen to me, don't give up, okay?' he pleaded with her, stroking her hair, her cheeks, not bothering to try and stop the tears rushing down his own face. 'Don't give up!'

'Jack,' she smiled, turning to face him. Her blood was soaking into his shirt and pooling on the ground, no matter how much he tried. She was dying, and there was nothing he could do about it. Her hand wavered up to touch his face. 'Am I dying?'

'No, you're going to be fine.' He clung desperately to the lies, if only so he could fool himself for a few more seconds. She was going to live if he had to move the stars by hand to make it happen!

'Liar,' she accused. He kissed her lips and hugged her close, rocking her back and forth to try and banish his grief. How could he lose her so soon? He wouldn't let it happen!

'Jack,' Gwen whispered weakly. She was very close now; all she could see was the Darkness. 'Jack, I –'

'Gwen? Gwen!'

No, it couldn't be, he refused to believe it.

Will Gwen make it? Are Ianto, Owen adn Tosh alive? Is the other dragon dead? Is Rhys dead? Who actually cares if Rhys is dead?

I told y'all this was a kick-ass chapter :) Please don't kill me for it.

You do, however, have leave to flame, curse, shout at or generally brate me for what I say next: I will not post the next chapter until one tenth of the people who read this chapter review it. Hostage taking of chapters is cruel and unusual punishment, and i do not condone it, but neither do i like people who read these things and don't leave a review. It doesn't take a minute and it's the only form of pay we fanfic writers get. Kay rant over, I'll leave you to fume while hiding behind the TARDIS - and Erik, Erik has a punjab

Erik: I'll use it on you in a minute, that was a horrible cliffhanger!

Me: Says he who kills anyone who says a word against Christine, or loves Christine for that matter

Erik: Fair point. Now update your other fanfics.

Me: Slavedriver...


	9. Chapter 9

What a way to end! Thanks to everyone who reviewed, there are still a lot of people who didn't (glares at people who didn't leave reviews), but 'm prepared to post anyway, because I got more than 100, which is what I really wanted in the end. Also because I have a friend holding my t-shirt hostage if I didn't post this before we go to Cardiff next weekend. Yey! I'm going toCardiff!

I have to say something though: I lie. I lie horrendously

1) This is not the last chapter, this is the second to last chapter because everything still needs to be tied up. Whicheans that I have a lovely round number of chapters at the end. Brilliant.

2)I got 16 reviews for this chapter out of 124 people who read it...near enough to 1/10, though what I really wanted was to get more than 100. So I'm posting now. Are you happy DragonSeggi?

* * *

Everything was silence, and it was deafening, and as all consuming as the choking black smoke. The hulking corpse of the red dragon sprawled like a small mountain in the middle of the Butetown street, its head blown apart. Ianto couldn't help but feel that some of his national pride had been wounded as he killed the beast.

After the blast, Ianto had come to, dazed, disorientated, and with his ears ringing so badly that he could hear nothing. The dragon had been crawling lizardlike over the nearby houses, sniffing and snarling through the ash and debris. It had seen Ianto moving in the dirt, prying the shard of blackened metal from his thigh. He had gasped in pain, only just noticing the giant scaled beast stalking towards him. Flames had licked again at its blood-scarlet mouth as it advanced slowly, hungrily. Ianto hadn't wanted to kill it; he hated taking life. The gun that had fallen down beside him was suddenly in his hands, and Ianto found himself standing despite the torn muscles in his leg, standing and staring down that fearful maw with what seemed like a very feeble and ineffective piece of metal as defence. The creature gaped wide to unleash its deadly inferno, and Ianto pulled the trigger, sending a bolt into the back of the dragon's skull, severing the spinal cord and boiling the brain in a second. Its carcass had collapsed where it stood, dead in an instant.

Ianto had fallen to his knees with it, exhausted, in pain, and losing blood. Blackness was crowding in, but he gritted his teeth against it, ignoring the sweat pouring off his brow. He had signed up for this. It was his job. His tie, so often ridiculed at work, now served as a bandage to stop the flow of blood. Next his jacket, the tailoring ripping apart as he tugged it around his injured leg. There was no sign of the others.

A wind started to blow the smoke across the road, reeking of sulphur and burning metal. Drawing his handgun from its holster, he levelled it at the shadow emerging from the gloom, his breath rasping in his throat. There couldn't be another one. It wasn't possible.

'Tosh? Owen?' he whispered into his comm. He didn't want to startle the creature behind the smog and provoke an attack. Murmured assurances in his ear told him they were alive, and together. But whatever the monster was, it was advancing on him. Ianto cocked his gun.

The black smoke swirled and eddied, distorting that shape that one second looked like a dragon unfurling its wings, the next looked like a stooped man carrying a heavy weight. The gun shook in Ianto's hand, his eyes trained on the target.

It was Jack. His face was streaked with soot that had been washed away with tears. Jack had been crying, and he looked tired, so tired. Gwen was cradled in his blackened hands, limp, her head bent against his chest. A dark stain was spreading slowly over his coat; it was blood. Gwen's blood, Ianto realised, and a cold wave of dread swept over him. Her face was so pale; her eyes were closed.

He didn't remember letting his arm drop, the gun clattering to the tarmac; he didn't know how he moved across the gaping void separating him and Jack. All that filled his vision was Gwen's face, horribly bloodless and still. No, it couldn't be, it couldn't have happened.

'It's over, Ianto,' Jack said quietly. 'Gwen's gone.'

Ianto looked up, choking back shocked sobs, trying to find some hint, some suggestion that this was all just a horrible nightmare. He wanted to shout, scream, smash things, pummel Jack for standing in front of him so serene and still.

What stopped him was the look in Jack's eyes – a dead look devoid of any emotion or life, lost and hopeless. It looked like there were two corpses instead of one. Never before had Ianto seen his boss so deflated and defeated. It scared him more than the monsters.

He had seen this look before, of course, when Jack was brooding over his past, but never so completely consuming and. . .sparkless. all the life had drained out of Jack; he was beyond pain and grief, now acting on autopilot at the death of the woman he loved. There truly were worse things than death.

Nobody said a word on the way back to the Hub. Gwen's death and the reaction of their boss hung over them like a black cloud. Ianto drove. Tosh, her arm broken in two places, had sealed off the road and called it a gas leak; they could come back later to deal with the dragon bodies. Jack sat in the back with. . .the body. He hadn't let go of her and clutched her lifeless form to his blood-soaked coat as though grasping the belief that if he held her to him for long enough she would return to him. The others passed glances between each other, Owen topping up Tosh's morphine and Ianto keeping a grim eye on the road. None of them wanted to acknowledge their boss and the desperate shell he had become.

He still refused to leave Gwen when they arrived at the tourist office. When he got out of the SUV it was like he didn't know where he was, or who he was. People stared and pointed at the pale motionless woman held in his arms with such loving delicacy, but he didn't heed any of them. His shoulders stooped like an old man's as they bent with the weight of the grief crushing him. He was Atlas alone under the pitiless grey sky.

He carried her down and laid her on Owen's autopsy table with such reverence that the rest of the team could only gaze on uncomfortably. Tosh had broken down and was crying into her lover's arms, and Ianto, with some semblance of composure, was trying to hold back and keep silent the sobs that shook his broad shoulders. Gwen was much more than a colleague; she was a friend. Hell, she was a part of their family, and losing her was like losing a limb.

Jack allowed Ianto to take his coat, but refused to leave his love's side, or even break contact with her for a second. His fingers stroked her marble-like cheek, an action that echoed loss all round the Hub with its slowness, its compassion, and made the loss reverberate to greater depths within them all. And all this without a word. Not a word had been spoken since Jack had emerged from the smoke carrying Gwen. She was dead. It was over. She was never coming back. There was no rage, no screams at the world baying for revenge, just the simple fact and a grey listlessness that stole over them all like a blanket. They would have to clear her station, enter her death in the logs. But that could be done later, when they had taken it in.

Jack wouldn't let Owen perform his duty as medical officer. He cleaned the blood from her fingers and hair, the soot from her ash stained, perfect face. He stitched the wound in her side as carefully as he had caressed her skin in life. Ianto, Tosh and Owen merely looked on, lost in their own grief and confusion, uncertainty stretching between them as they watched this calm, anguished ritual.

Finally, Ianto couldn't stand it. He descended into the medical bay to help Jack's shaking hands as they placed the body in a bag. It was impossible to think of it as Gwen anymore.

Fighting back tears, Ianto started to lift the bag, but hands closed over his, and in a voice barely above a harsh whisper, cracked and broken, Jack said 'I'll do it.'

He couldn't look at her. It was _not _Gwen, not his beautiful Gwen lying cold and dead on the table. It was just someone who bore a remarkable resemblance to her. That was how he dealt with things, he made them impersonal. But he couldn't bring himself to do it this time. Every time he tried he could see her face in his mind, her smile, her bright emerald eyes so full of laughter and compassion. He must have stared at her for hours before he spoke into the darkness of the morgue.

'How ironic the world is,' he mused as softly as his croaking voice would allow. 'The last time we were both here, I was on the table. They thought I was gone for good. Hell, even I did. But you didn't.' He tenderly brushed her eyelid with his thumb, not wanting to damage her beauty. 'You still believed in me. You kissed me and brought me back. Sometimes I wondered why, but then I'd see your face in my mind. Then I went and left you, and you went and left me and got engaged.'

He never had admitted just how terrified he had been at the moment he had discovered that. It was like he had been plunged into the Darkness again, like it had swallowed him up for good. He had called that ambulance for Rhys not for any compassion felt for the stupid man, but because she would have wanted it. She had only wanted him safe and she had paid for believing he trusted her.

An idea suddenly lodged in his brain. A stupid, pathetic, ridiculous idea. The sort of idea that shows when a man is at his most desperate, when he will try any path to escape the inevitable. Jack had brought people back before, from the brink of death. He had so much power, such life, and he couldn't even use it to save this one woman. What good was the Bad Wolf's gift if he couldn't even use it?

Ianto had benefitted. He had lain half submerged in the pond at the bottom of the water tower as the cyberwoman ravaged the Hub, unconscious, close to death, and Jack had kissed him to bring him back. Never had he fetched someone out of the Darkness though. Never someone who was already dead.

But maybe, just maybe, if he poured ever ounce of life and power into one kiss of Gwen's frozen lips, he could bring her back. He dared to hope.

'I wonder,' he whispered. 'Let me do for you what you did for me.' And he pressed his lips against hers.

They were cold, lifeless still, but Jack persevered. The great reservoir of power housed inside his body, the remnants of the Time Vortex that flowed in his veins, were forced to the surface and pressed to Gwen's skin. The power surged and swirled, unwilling, but Jack pressed harder. He loved her. He would not let her go alone into the Darkness.

Even so, he knew it would not be enough. Her life force had already slipped away without an anchor to keep it in the world. Jack screamed out her name in his head, calling to her with his mind, probing his consciousness into that void of which he knew so much and yet so little. His teeth bit down on his bottom lip, and blood dripped between her slightly parted lips. _Please Gwen_, he begged. _Please come back to me._

* * *

Gwen was lost. The last thing she had seen was Jack's face, his horrified expression as something terrible passed before his eyes. There was nothing now, only this black, the crushing Darkness. Susie had said something about darkness. Then it hit her. Gwen was dead.

Panic erupted in her chest, seizing her entire body as adrenalin pounded through it, ready to fight or flee. She screamed, shouted for help, for Jack, for anybody who could help her. Tears poured down her face as she remembered a time as a little girl when she had been scared of the dark, when she had gotten lost in her own room because she couldn't see, and all her toys had become terrifying monsters that tried to trip her. This was like then, only this time there was no consolation, the knowledge that this time her mother was going to come and switch on the light that she couldn't reach. She was dead.

Something scurried in the shadows. Gwen froze, head snapping to the sound. Something else was prowling behind her, lurking, circling, sizing her up like some predator looking for an easy meal. She could have given up. She should give up. She was dead.

No. She wasn't ready to die yet. There were still things she wanted to say, to do, and Jack would be on his own again if she gave up. Panicking would not help. She stuffed the nightmarish creatures on the periphery of her vision to the back of her mind, ignoring her lowly human instincts and telling 

herself that if she ignored them they would cease to exist. She had to remember how she got here. She had to concentrate on Jack.

_Gwen._

'Jack?' she called into the gloom. It was faint, but she could have sworn it was him.

_Come back to me Gwen._

'Jack!' She was sure this time. It hadn't been her imagination playing tricks in the blackness. She tried to turn her head, to see where the voice was coming from.

_Gwen._

She stood, hope blossoming like a flower in her heart. Before she had been completely cold, and had hugged her arms to her chest to get warm, but now heat was spreading itself through her body, seeping out from her mouth like the effects of a spirit drink. She could hear Jack clearly in her mind, calling her, welcoming her back to life. She could feel his presence like a palpable touch on her cool skin.

But the creatures were closing in, angry that their quarry was escaping. They snarled in the darkness, growling, telling her it was hopeless. She started to fear. Her knees gave way beneath her.

_Don't give up._

'Jack. . .'

_Don't you dare give up! They have no power over you if you listen to me. Beat them back Gwen. Listen to me. Please come back._

Jack's voice was becoming fainter as the hisses of the creatures crowded in on her despairing thoughts. She was going to lose him.

No. With great effort she staggered to her feet again, to a great roar of triumph from Jack's golden voice. It sent the creatures scurrying away from the light, snarling and baying and growling. But they were still there, on the edges of Gwen's mind, playing tricks with it, terrifying it. Gwen knew what to do. Summoning her voice from all the recesses of her body, drawing on her strength she called out into the Darkness.

'You have no power over me.'

A gigantic, lurching gasp filled the morgue as Gwen returned to life. She was confused, terrified, disorientated. What was she doing here? How did she get here? Her body felt so stiff, her brain cold, as if she had woken from a groggy sleep. But she was petrified of something. Something had been chasing her.

'Gwen, Gwen, look at me.' Jack's face swam into focus as he checked her over for signs of brain damage. He was so overjoyed that his hands were trembling; tears streaked freely and happily over his cheeks. Gwen was alive, he had brought her back from the dead!

'Jack!' she gasped.

'You alright?' She fell into his strong arms and sobbed. She had been so scared, so lost. That was how he felt, every time he died, fighting off those monsters in the dark. She thought she would never see him again. And he had saved her.

'Sh, it's okay,' Jack soothed. And for once, he was being completely truthful.

'Jack?'

'Mm?'

'Does this mean I'm immortal now too?'

Jack thought for a while. Deep inside, he could feel that his reserves of energy had been greatly used up, though whether he had poured enough of himself into Gwen to make her live forever wasn't something he could figure out. 'Let's not test the theory,' he said finally.

She smiled that gap-toothed grin of hers and kissed him fully on the lips.

You can tell that for reasons beyond my control, my muses for this chapter have been Labyrinth and Reign of Fire. Good movies that have absolutely nothing to do with Torchwood, though maybe a Labyrinth crossover would be fun to write. So yeah, next chapter is closure. See y'all then and let's see if we can get to 120 reviews hm? hinthint

Shadowxwolf


	10. Chapter 10

(Has party) This is the first ficI have actually finished! I'm just sad it's all over! Thanks to everyone who has reviewed and supported me through several phases of writer's block, giving up, and Torchwood withdrawals. THis is the closure chapter, one tht is pure fluff that reminds me of Jane Austen final chapters. What am I doing? This isn't me! Oh well, I hope you enjoy!

* * *

No sound could be heard in the Hub, save for the clacking of keys over the keyboard. The task of entering Gwen's death in the logs of Torchwood staff had fallen to Ianto, while Owen morosely, slowly, cleaned out her desk, as if to give Gwen a chance to come bouncing up from the morgue and stop him in his tracks. Tosh was sitting alone and terribly small on the couch, hugging herself as if to hold in her grief that was spilling silent tears down her face. They had all gone to that vast chamber in the Torchwood vaults where the bodies of all Torchwood employees were kept. Somewhere in there was Susie's frozen corpse. None of them had stayed long; Jack's forlorn lifelessness had sucked everything out of the place, stifling it and making it even colder.

There was the sound of footsteps on the wireframe stairs leading down to the vaults. Jack was emerging at last. Nobody dared look at him. A strange echoing, like there was two sets of feet, sounded up from the gloom, and Tosh looked up just in time to see Jack's head emerge followed by. . .

'I don't believe it,' she whispered, standing with a jerk and staring wide eyed at Gwen's tentatively smiling face. She was alive! How was she alive? Tosh had seen her lifeless body, cold and bloodless, down in the morgue.

'Tosh?' Owen had not heard anything, so absorbed was he in his task.

'It's Gwen,' she said, still staring at her dead friend. A ghost. It had to be a trick of the light. Owen turned, frowning, to where his colleague was looking and staggered back against the desk.

'Fucking hell!' he shouted, not bothering to pick up the box of Gwen's things that had gone clattering to the floor. His jaw had dropped in disbelief.

Ianto looked up sharply. His back was to the stairs so he had seen nothing. He froze when he heard Gwen's laughter.

'Language, Owen,' she chortled. Owen could only gape like a fish.

'You're alive,' Tosh said in disbelief. Gwen nodded, smiling.

One by one, like they were dreaming, Gwen's colleagues walked over, touched her, hugged her, made sure she was real and not some mass hallucination. All the time Jack stood silently, smiling beside her. For once, everything was as it should be.

Owen took great pride and delight in autopsying the dragons. It was a struggle to get them into the Hub, so Ianto, who knew almost every passage and cellar in the base, had moved them to a large underground vault where Owen could work on them in peace. He dissected the chest and found hollow bones, huge air sacs and a hydrogen store. Just another alien to enter into the archives.

Ianto, extremely irritated by the destruction of the SUV, wasted no time in finding the original blueprints for the vehicle, and, with help from Tosh and Jack, improved the design and started to rebuild from scratch. In the meantime he had bought an ordinary Range Rover to get them from place to place.

Gwen found herself filing reports, taking it easy. She suffered occasionally from fainting spells and dizziness which Jack said was normal after losing so much blood. He was always there at her side in an instant to catch her when she swooned.

And even the Rift seemed to be taking it easy. There were no monsters to fight, no dangerous artefacts to recapture from criminals, just an occasional flare or spike, bringing with it small, broken trinkets from faraway places. Everything was quiet.

* * *

Rhys awoke disorientated in a room that smelled sterile and was white. It must be a hospital. Every inch of his body ached, despite the obvious painkillers that were coursing through his veins. It left him feeling groggy, his vision hazy. He drifted in and out of consciousness.

Gwen came with Jack to visit it him the day after he woke up, sidling into his private room almost guiltily as the others waited in the hall outside. Jack stayed by the door, knowing that he needed to give Gwen her space to do this.

Rhys woke as she entered. 'Gwen?' He couldn't believe his eyes. There was his angel, smiling almost sadly at him. 'Oh Gwen, I've missed you so much.' He reached out for her hand, his warm smile faltering when she didn't take his. Then he saw Jack. 'What's he doing here?' he asked guardedly.

'I've brought you a coffee,' Gwen said, ignoring his question. She handed over the Starbucks cup. 'I haven't got long, the others are waiting in the hall.' She watched Rhys take a sip, then another. Soon he had downed the whole cup. Jack had said that might happen.

'Gwen, what are you –' Rhys was suddenly drowsy, but he blamed the medication.

'I've come to say goodbye, Rhys,' Gwen said quickly, her smile fading. Her eyes gazed steadily at him, distant but still loving. It was Torchwood that had made her eyes so cold. 'Please, don't say anything,' she continued, knowing he was about to burst out angrily. 'In a few hours I won't have existed at all.'

'What do you mean?'

'I've just given you a retcon pill,' she explained, knowing it wouldn't matter soon. 'You'll fall asleep. When you wake up every memory of me, every memory of Torchwood, will have vanished. You can start your life again.' A sad smile twitched the corner of her mouth.

'Did you put her up to this, Harkness?' he snarled.

Jack just raised his chin and said nothing. This was hard enough for Gwen to do without any conflict between her old boyfriend and him. His eyes traced Gwen's movements carefully, watching for signs of exhaustion. She was still fainting. Well, coming back from the dead took a bit of getting used to. He smiled inwardly at the thought of them together, possibly forever.

'Jack didn't make me do anything,' she snapped. 'I'm doing this for you. It's the only way to keep you safe.' This was only half true. Gwen had moved on. It had only taken death to show her that her future lay solely with Torchwood. She couldn't keep mixing her life and her illusion of normality, it just didn't work like that. Her life belonged to Torchwood, to the Rift with all its dangers and aliens and monsters, to the man standing in the corner wearing the RAF coat who watched her so carefully.

'Thankyou,' she whispered to Rhys.

'For what?' he replied, bemused.

'Exactly.' She walked sedately from the room, Jack following, as Rhys' eyelids drooped and he fell into a deep and undreaming sleep.

* * *

Winter was coming. Jack could smell it on the breeze sweeping in off the bay, hear it in the way the swallows were chattering to each other as they prepared to fly south for another year, see it in the stormy grey colour of the baywater as he stared out to sea. He stood motionless on the roof of the Millennium Centre, letting his coat blow about him in the eddying currents of brusque sea wind.

'It'll be a cold one this year,' he said sagely, not blinking. He turned and smiled boyishly at the person next to him.

'But we'll keep doing what we do,' Gwen replied, not able to hide a smirk of her own. His grin was so infectious, and these past few months had been the happiest of her life.

'Yup.'

They were thinking the same thing as they stood there hand in hand. Memories flashed in Gwen's mind. She had seen Rhys once or twice. He was confined to a wheelchair now but looked happy enough. Tosh and Owen were obsessed with each other, on their fifth date and still going strong. Jack, who knew most about Owen's past, saw things looking up for the man who had dealt with his 

grief by simplifying the world and shutting people out. Even Ianto had a girlfriend now. Her name was Naomi, a nurse he had met at the hospital. He blushed whenever she was mentioned but everyone could see how much happier he was now that he was in a proper relationship. Hell, he had even moved in with her last weekend.

And Gwen. Jack had Gwen now, standing tall beside him, no longer loving her from a guarded distance, but with her almost every second, being there for her in a way that made his heart almost overload with happiness. It had been a long time since someone had made him feel this whole.

'What?' she asked now, noticing him staring at her.

He shrugged. 'Just, I love you,' he grinned and pulled her in for a hot, passionate kiss on the lips.

'I love you too.' She breathed, drawing away, only to return once more to his warm embrace. She would always return to him.

The bit where Gwen finally came to her senses and went with Jack reminded me a bit of when Rose first went with the Doctor and left Mickey behind, so that's why I thought I should put that in. I hope you've all had fun, and have enjoyed reading my story.

Shadowxwolf

PS, reviews are nice :)


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